


A Horrific Fate

by Dark_Crystal_Demon



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Horrortale, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Biting, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Breeding, Death, Dismemberment, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Fucked Up Soulmate AU, Graphic Description, Marking, Masturbation, Moral Ambiguity, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Oviposition, Possessive Behavior, Rape/Non-con Elements, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-05-16 09:48:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14808983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_Crystal_Demon/pseuds/Dark_Crystal_Demon
Summary: Horrortale AU with a large amount of moral ambiguity... hell, there’s nothing moral about this piece.Non-consensual Soulmate story for those who want to delve into darkness and not resurface.This tale is irredeemable.





	1. Trust Your Instincts

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to the Anon who prompted for Horrortale and then watched it get twisted into this sick tale now lovingly dubbed “Fucked Up Soulmate AU.”
> 
> Please heed the tags and take care of yourself. This fic isn’t holding back.

A long time ago at the base of Mt. Ebbott, there was a city that was built on top of an ancient burial ground. People said it was a cursed place, a site consecrated by monster ash during the Great War. Bad luck met any who lived there. High rise buildings would fall without reason; streets cracked within days of repaving; and houses would flood or catch fire from malfunctioning appliances. Finally, the city fell into ruins, abandoned.

Decades later, new city plans were being made for the area. An archeological society protested the construction and made the city ruins a protected historic site, that no one dared to excavate. The civil engineers respected the new designation and moved the center of New Ebbott further south. 

But eventually the city grew. To keep the ruins intact, they erected giant stone arches and steel support beams to create a level above. There, new city roads were built, along with outlying housing. Life moved on and the ruins below became known as the Burial Grounds.

There was only one road that led in or out of the Grounds, and it was perpetually out of order. A rusted, bent "Detour" sign was permanently cemented into the center of the road, right before it dips down into the labyrinthine darkness of crumbled buildings beneath the new city. It was rumored that any who entered were never seen again. 

Despite the reputation, nothing was done to seal the site, for fear that worse would come if it was disturbed any more. 

Years passed. The Grounds were nearly forgotten by anyone in power, until a month ago a fearsome hoard of refugees burst forth from the mountainside beside the city. They were monsters, literally. Their horrifying looks were the shape of nightmares, and their undeniable taste for blood led the humans to search for the furthest place they could send them and possibly also be rid of them...

The humans didn't tell the monsters of the curse. And the monsters... didn't seem to notice. They accepted moving from one dark hole to another in exchange for the privacy. The politicians hoped that the Grounds would somehow keep the monsters away until they could figure out what to do next. And the monsters found the sun to be relentlessly bright. They were also daunted by the sheer amount of humans on the surface. The Grounds became the perfect hiding place to regroup and stabilize. They welcomed the spacious acres of free housing available to them, and they left the detour sign at the entrance. 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

With his brother at his side, Sans secured an entire block for their territory. A fearsome skeleton duo, they installed traps and puzzles that lead all the way to the abandoned hospital, a large complex that used to be ten stories. It now sat at four; though the "top" floor was too unstable to be considered of use. 

They booby trapped the first floor and created a secret entrance onto the second. The third they split down the middle for each other's living quarters. Sans' rooms laid within the old maternity ward. Papyrus' in surgery.

 

After weeks of traveling, nesting, and fighting other monsters for their patch of land, the brothers sit in the dark cafeteria on the first floor. It is one of the few rooms on that floor not filled with deadly snares. 

Used to the dim lighting of the underground - and electricity still being scarce in the Grounds - they eat in darkness. The sound of strong jaw bones tearing meaty sinews fill the silence.

"A NEW LIFE," Papyrus exclaims with a sigh, picking shreds of meat from his mangled set of teeth. The surface is abundant with food, though monsters silently agreed to leave the humans alone... for now. "YOU ARE TOO SILENT, BROTHER.  HAS MY GREAT MEAL LEFT YOU IN A FOOD COMA?"

"yeah, bro," Sans smiles, his one good eye casting a red glow over the bones of their dinner. It is comforting the way surface creatures didn't turn to dust after death. It made their presence more real and less like a dream... or a nightmare. "i'm resting in peace."

Satisfied with Sans' awful response, Papyrus starts to clean up. 

"leave the bones."

"THEY WON'T BECOME A MONSTER. THESE BONES DON'T HAVE MAGIC, BROTHER." Papyrus has become fond of reminding his brother of surface facts that he learns from stealing human newspapers and tapping into the human internet on his phone. Though electricity is limited, the Royal Scientist was able to figure out how to generate enough for wifi communication. The rest is just a matter of time in infrastructure configuration. 

Sans looks down at the carcass, licked clean. One end of each bone is snapped off to suck the marrow from inside. "MARROW DOES A SKELETON GOOD." Papyrus had lectured. Sans always complied. His little brother is a stickler for good nutrition, even if it had been near impossible to come by in the Underground, where any organic matter had been fought over... to the death. They learned not a waste a single scrap of food in the that hell.

Sans smiles, thinking of their new home full of meaty prey like the one they had tonight. "i want to decorate my space with our good fortune," he pauses, and finally says what's on his mind, "do you wish the bones did have magic?"

"WHY? ARE YOU SAYING YOU WANT A PET?"

"i want to mate." The need has been consuming Sans for weeks. 

"I AM FLATTERED, BUT INCEST DOES NOT BREED VERY EFFECTIVE OFFSPRING."

"no, bro... with a human." He can't get her out of his rotten skull.

"AH. I ASSUME YOU'VE CHOSEN A HUMAN WHO IS WORTHY OF ADDING TO OUR GENE POOL." Papyrus walks the remains of dinner back to the kitchen. He puts the bones in a bag for his brother to take upstairs, and he looks at the rusted industrial fridge where Sans has been placing random magnets and scraps of human advertising paraphernalia. 

There is only one item on the fridge that has gotten the most attention. It's a flyer from a human, scientific outreach group about a community meet from a week ago. A swirling pattern of magnets hold the notice in place. There's a small note next to it that says "do not trash." One of the names on the flyer is circled.

Papyrus tries to remember that day. The team of scientists had met the monsters in the dilapidated town hall building. The ceiling had collapsed long ago, but the monsters cleaned the debris and made chairs from many of the roofing materials. They didn't bother trying to repair the ceiling. There are no natural elements to worry about when the "sky" is the cement underbelly of a seldomly used highway road. Though the storm drainage pipes did leak. Its few streams are easily avoided during bad weather.

Papyrus looks again at the name circled on the flyer. She isn't a scientist, but she talked the most during the presentation. He remembers she was the only one courageous enough to not only look him straight in the eye sockets but to also offer her hand in greeting. Her bold move was followed by quiet alarm when Sans didn't let her hand go. Papyrus had to intervene by pinching his brother's spinal cord below his skull. 

Sans' eye was trained on her the rest of the meeting. The hunter within him was engaged. Papyrus had thought Sans was planning on breaking the rules for an exquisite human meal. It had never occurred to him that his brother was thinking of a different type of acquisition...

"i can't get her scent out of my skull."

Humans did smell delicious with their sweat, tears... blood. Just thinking about that visit makes Papyrus start to drool, his magic saliva dripping on the broken counter top. 

"heh, maybe i'll let you have a taste before i breed her," Sans chuckles as he enters the kitchen for his bag and tosses a rag to his brother. Papyrus catches it effortlessly with the practiced reflexes of trained killer...

...murderer... 

"MMM," Papyrus' bones rattle, their near hollow cores echoing in the empty space. The sound reminds Sans of how grateful he is to be free. His brother wouldn't have lasted much longer down there. He is an excellent cook, but they'd been living off dusted monster debris for weeks before the barrier broke to the surface. 

There is no one more important to Sans than his brother. They are the last of their kind, and it is time to change that. 

"how many eggs do you think one human can hold?"

"THEIR BELLY HAS EXCELLENT EXPANSION CAPABILITIES, BUT MORE THAN TEN MAY CUT INTO OUR FOOD RESERVES."

"i'll hunt more. i want a large clutch."

"HOW WILL YOU MAKE THE HUMAN CONSENT?"

"she doesn't have a choice."

Papyrus' eye sockets widen in realization of what his brother is saying. "Her soul..."

"yeah, bro." Sans' sharp teeth glow from the red magic of his tongue, licking the edges of his mouth where remains of dinner are splattered on his bone. He shoves his clawed hand into his rib cage and yanks out his soul. It's cracked, white glow is dim and flickers like a broken tv set. When he stares into its core, he can see her face. The pull to go find her increases. His soul pulses in his hand as he says, "the link is strong. she'll make a fine mate. we'll be able to breed hundreds of clutches in her before her lifespan runs out."

"I'M GOING TO BE AN UNCLE!"

"and a father. i'll convince her to let you breed her after the first clutch or two. she'll be good practice until we find a mate for your soul."

"YOU ARE SO GENEROUS, BROTHER."

"anything for you, bro."

"THIS HUMAN IS ONE LUCKY SOUL."

"yeah, and i'll keep fucking her until she knows it," Sans says, half joking, as he puts his soul back in his chest. His rib cage is lit up for a moment before the soul disappears, dispersing back into his magic. In that second, all the cuts and gouged craters in his bone are highlighted. 

It's been a rough life up to this point. Their race isn't the only one to be nearly extinct. The things they had to do to survive... Sans would have given up long ago - dusted himself - but he needed to protect Papyrus. 

Now, with this twist of fate, they are free. Sans isn't going to waste a moment. He is going to seize life and give Papyrus a family, other monsters who can protect him. Because no matter how bad it gets, bone is thicker than water. You can always trust family. And this time, he will keep them all close and protected.

"CAN I RECORD HER SCREAMS FOR MY COLLECTION?"

"of course, bro. but keep it private. start a family file."

"WHY NOT SHARE OUR CONQUEST?" He hasn't published a new recording for his podcast in months. He has wondered if he will ever be allowed to record anything again with this new rule of humans being off the menu...

"don't know who's listening these days. don't need anyone getting in the way of our procreation. that human is mine. her soul is mine."

"WHO WOULD INTERFERE? SOUL MATES ARE PART OF NATURE'S LAW. IT IS A BINDING CONTRACT. NO MONSTER WOULD TOUCH HER."

"humans might. they've forgotten nature's law a long time ago. i shook her hand and she acted like she didn't feel anything. humans have lost touch with their souls. they even have long courtships without mating. they've become a pretentious species. think themselves above instinct. i overheard a group that doesn't even eat meat anymore."

Papyrus had read about that. "I THOUGHT THAT WAS A JOKE."

"not this time, bro. humans are lost in their gray brain matter. our human will probably need to be re-educated. poor girl. the soul bond will help."

"SHE WON'T BE ABLE TO RESIST YOU." Papyrus' proud smile glows in the darkness. His gnarled teeth scratching together as his laugh echoes in the cavernous adjacent room.

It is good to hear that sound again. 

"heh, yeah, bro," Sans chuckles. "though i won't mind if she tries."

He's always enjoyed a chase.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You lock the door to your new rental in the suburbs above the Burial Grounds. You haven't always been so enthusiastic for an assignment, but when this one presented itself, you went all in. The houses for rent here are actually very nice, and dirt cheap now that monsters had moved in below them.

Every now and then a monster will come up to this level to go to the store or just walk under the sky. It is a surreal sight, and your heart pounds in excitement at this new reality: monsters exist. And your job is to get to know them, study them, and learn about their magic. 

Magic. You keep saying the word in your head. You're still surprised it has now become a scientific term, a real aspect to be explored. Not that magic will be your focus. That is for the physicists, chemists, and biologists on the team. Your job is public relations and intel for the governor. The mayor's staff were all too spooked to send a representative, but they were willing to give a state employee somewhere to stay while you work on the case. So you flew down from the capital, set up a town meeting, and now act as a mediator between the scientists and the monsters. 

These Ebbott folk are just a little too superstitious. No one on the investigation team is from this area. In fact, most of this neighborhood is now housing federal and state employees like yourself. You wave to one of the psychologists on the team who is mowing their lawn, and make your way down the street to the convenience store. You need to gather water and snacks for your next "dive" (as the team calls it) underground. Monster shops are a bit too risky to trust until more information on their food quality has been analyzed. You didn't want to go down in history as the first casualty from some strange monster food bacteria. 

As you get closer to the commercial district, you hold your breath for a beat while you pass a dark alleyway. It harbors a Devil's Doorway. That is the name given to holes that crumbled down into the ruins below. No one knows what causes the holes, but rumor was they could steal your soul through your breath and drag it to the darkness below. 

You don't believe it's true but... as you watch a monster literally made of fire walk out of the local bookstore, you admit to yourself that not believing in superstition seems a bit illogical when monsters are roaming the streets. Still, you can't let myths and whispers of curses stop you from one of the most exciting jobs any human has ever had the opportunity to join.

Of course, there is nothing wrong with being cautious. You hold your breath again as you pass another hole in the street near a storm drain.

 

You buy your usual fare and bump into a skeleton monster on your way out of the store. Despite wearing a hoodie, his shoulder bones jab sharply into your arm. Your neck is nearly impaled by the jagged hole at the top of his skull. The fragmented bone has rubbed the hood threadbare in that spot. You bit down on a yelp.

"sorry," he says. You recognize his low, gravelly voice, as well as his face when you get a better look. 

"Sans, right?" You adjust the bags on your arms, and offer him your hand. Part of your job is to keep friendly relations with as many monsters as possible - no matter how creepy some of them are. The memory of your last encounter where he held your hand for a little too long does cross your mind, but you're currently in broad daylight and in front of a well-visited public place. You decide you're safe.

"you remember my name?" he asks, his eye sockets widening in surprise. He takes your hand and, as expected, holds onto it for much longer than he should. His rough, calloused bones send shivers across your skin. You hear him whisper, "so soft," and yank your hand away as politely as you can.

"Of course," your heart is racing a bit as you speak. He's got quite alarming features: a skeleton full of microfractures and smelling of rotten meat. One of his eyes glows with red magic, the other is vacant of any light, a dark void that seems to writhe as you stare longer than you should. "It's my job to get to know all of you. I'll see you at the next town hall."

Trying to keep your face as pleasant as you can, you say good bye, but he steps further into your personal space. You step back, angling yourself towards the street and not the wall of the store. You make a mental note to start logging whether other monsters also ignore spatial boundaries. It could be a cultural thing...

...or not. 

"i don't want to wait that long," he says, continuing to walk towards you. His gait seems casual, but when paired with the aggressive undertones of his words... You take more steps back, and start to look around the street for other humans. None are in the parking lot, and the ones in the store have their backs to you at the register. There are two monsters on the other side of the street, but they avert their gaze.

"If you want to make an appointment, you can contact my office and they'll put you on the schedule," you try to buy some time for another customer to come out of the store, or enter the parking lot. "I even think we have some openings later this week."

"i want you to open now," he says with a crooked smirk. His sharpened canines glisten with magic saliva. 

What the fuck?!

You start to quicken your backwards escape. His eye blazes crimson light, highlighting his skull and casting shadows in the larger fractures along his boney features. A large, wet, red tongue, glowing with magic, protrudes from his mouth as he licks his canines with a sickeningly sloppy slurp. "you gonna run, sweetheart?"

There's no more time to think. You turn and do just that. You can hear him cackle behind you. The sound fades as you keep moving further away from him. You don't look back. You don't stop running until you reach your street. 

You nearly collapse against the fence that surrounds your home. The sound of the lawn mower next door and the smell of cut grass is soothing in its familiarity. 

You take a few deep breaths and try to find your keys. Your hands are shaking, emphasized by the crinkle of the plastic bag full of snacks that you had enough sense to hold onto. The lawn mower stops. The psychologist asks if you're okay. You nod, not able to speak. Your throat is dry, and you don't trust your mouth to form words. 

You fumble with the keys, unlocking your door, and shut it with the entire weight of your body. You lock the door and realize you're crying. The sound of your tears in the empty house is anything but comforting. You hug yourself and fall to the floor. 

What just happened? You close your eyes, but then all you can see is his shadowed skull, red eye trained on you as his licks his lips.

You're afraid to open your eyes and afraid to keep them closed. You're suddenly very aware that most of the curtains on the windows in the house are still open, letting in sunlight... and possibly unwanted eyes. Did he follow you? 

A knock on the door has you jumping to your feet and gripping your snack bag like a swinging club. 

"It's me. Jalan." The psychologist. "I know you said you were fine, but you looked really shaken. If you'd like to talk -"

You open the door without thinking. The warmth in his voice is too compelling in your current state. Your tear stained face halts any more of his words. He opens his arms, and you let yourself find comfort in his embrace. 

After a few minutes in the doorway, he asks, "Do you want to talk about it?" His question is genuine. You haven't known him for very long - a few weeks - but he's a likeable guy and passionate about his work in behavioral studies. You know you need to report this incident to him. Perhaps he could even have some insight into Sans' actions. But what if he also decides you're weak for running away? You followed your gut instinct to flee rather than standing your ground and talking more. How can you be PR if you run?

It was a mistake to open the door and get anyone else involved. What if they decide the public relations rep should be some macho man with defensive training?

You are spooked, but you're not ready to give up this job. You'd already started negotiations for infrastructure repairs in the Burial Grounds. Most of the monsters you met were scary looking, but genuinely wanted to put their past behind them. And the government's stance for now was to remain silent on how many humans have gone missing on that mountain these monsters came from. The idea is to play it cool until the monsters' showed you all their hands. No reason to antagonize them until you understood them, and found out which were truly responsible for those deaths - if they were...

... Sans' face comes back into your mind. You don't know how, but you know he has many of the answers you seek. If you expose him now, that information could be lost forever. You need to be strong. 

You ease out of Jalan's arms, and wipe your eyes, "I'm okay. I just found out my aunt passed away. We weren't that close, but it just shook me up a little." You lie.

"A lot of transitions in a short time can lead to emotional build up," Jalan nods. "I'm here if you'd like to talk more about it."

"Thank you, Jalan," you smile and then put your hand on the door. "I'm going to rest now. Big day tomorrow."

"Of course, resting is a fine choice. I'll see you tomorrow."

You close the door and then promptly close all your window curtains. Even when they're all shut, you still feel his eyes - especially the dark one - scanning over your body. 

You feel like a shower, but also find the thought of being so vulnerable frightening. You realize the size and silence of the house is getting to you. You're jumping at every small noise.

You need to pull yourself together. You connect your phone to the speakers and blast your most energetic playlist throughout the house. It helps you focus. You take a shower, make lunch, and open your tablet to go over tomorrow's tour of block C in the Grounds. You keep moving and working, but every time the music stops to switch tracks, you can see him in your mind. 

' _you gonna run, sweetheart?_ ' Your mind plays the scene on repeat by the time you crawl into bed. You'd taken a sleeping aid, but are still waiting for it to kick in. All the questions you'd been avoiding throughout the day come rushing into your head. 

Why you? What did he want? Why did he look at you like that?

Your heart is racing, but... 

...but.

Are you going to allow yourself to admit that part of your rapid heart beat is... excited?

No. It's not. It can't be. Nothing he said or did was ok. He scared you. He chased you. - well, did he? You didn't look back. You've closed all the windows and locked the doors. But no one else has tried to come in after Jalan left. 

Did you overreact? You ran from a monster in a public place when no monster attacks have been reported since they escaped the mountain... 

Did you misjudge his intentions? You think back again on the exchange. “i want you..." couldn't be more clear, but instead of responding with words you ran. Why? 

Because he looks like a psychotic killer, a messenger of Death himself. 

Your instinct told you to run. Is that wrong? Did you judge him for his looks. No. That isn't it. His words were very... direct. That deep voice snuck beneath your skin while his eyes undressed you. You didn’t misjudge that.

You're sure that's what he was doing. But if you reported it, would you be told you should have engaged in a dialogue about differences in the way humans and monsters express attraction?

Attraction...

Were you going to allow yourself to think about how you feel about this? Not as a PR but as a woman. How did you feel... about him?

Repulsed is the first word that comes to mind. It’s his smell that gets to you the most: rotting corpses. And then there’s the fact that he’s a skeleton. How would that even - it doesn’t matter. You aren’t interested in hooking up with an untidy, possible killer of humans...

You feel thankful that you didn't talk this out with Jalan. If you had, he might have decided to report to the department that you were specist. When you didn't have anything against the monster species as a whole. But Sans...

The urge to run had been so real. Was it really a misguided emotion from watching too many horror movies, or was it the right choice?

What would he have done if you hadn't run? What do monsters do when they feel attraction? Do they court their interest or just... slam them against the side of the building and have their way with them? Or do they kill their mates like a preying mantis?

With both fear and awful curiosity your thoughts continue down a spiral of one horrific lustful act after another done in the animal kingdom.

Your hand rests on your chest, trying to calm your heartbeat. This train of thought keeps spiraling back to him... walking towards you with lust in his eyes.

Your body starts to tingle in warmth as your sleep aid kicks in. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. Your muscles begin to relax. But in your drugged state, your nipples rise and rub against the fabric of your clothes, sending new signals to your body.

In a sleepy haze, your fingers move of their own volition, fueled by the need to feel... good. A desire to rub away the tension of the day consumes you. But in your mind your fingers become bone. His strong, calloused grip roughly caresses your skin.

" _i want you to open now..._ "

Your legs spread wide as your pleasure throbs under his finger tips. You gasp with the heat coming from his long, wet, bulbous tongue.

“NO!” You startle yourself awake to an empty room. Your heavy breaths fill the silence. Your body is covered in sweat and sticking to the sheets.

Why did you just...? Your head aches in an inability to think all this through when you're still so tired.

Maybe you should talk to someone about what happened... but right now you’re so tired...

You close your eyes and find him there waiting between your legs.

NO! You wake yourself up again. Struggling against the chemical inclination to sleep. You try to get up and flop face down into the sheets...

He grips your waist and pulls your hips up to him. His dirty pelvic bone presses against your ass. You feel his slimy, swollen tip against you... starting to spread apart your lips.

You can feel his smirk against your back. " _you gonna run?_ "

You gasp, biting the sheets as he doesn't wait for an answer. With one rough thrust, he’s inside you. Every inch of him carving itself into your body.

“your mine,” his breath smells of rotting flesh. The bones of his fingers bruise your sides as he holds you in place. Like being trapped in a coffin.

You scream and wake up, falling off your bed in a lurch to get away from Sans... who isn’t there.

You turn on every light in the house on your way to the kitchen. You jump at every shadow, but he’s not in them. You turn on your coffee pot and lift your night shirt to check your body for bruises.

There are none. But it felt so real.

Too real.

The coffee starts to pour, filling the room with its sweet aroma. You aren’t going to sleep again.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sans wakes with his cock in his hand. His naked skeleton is alight by its crimson glow as he lays on a moldy cot in an old emergent care room.

Her soul is so strong. It made her easy to find when she dreamed, but hard to pin down...

He smirks, stroking himself as he remembers her tight pussy around him. He grabs the skull from tonight’s dinner and places it’s open mouth around his cock.

Papyrus pretended to be disappointed in Sans when he brought a dead human home for dinner. The Queen will be angry, but she’ll take care of it like she had with the others. Sans was speeding up the Royal Scientist’s plans, but she owed him several. Besides, humans are a hard craving to kick. They are delicious. Their skulls make great masturbation tools. And besides that...

This human shouldn’t have touched Sans’ mate.

“s h e   i s   m i n e.” Sans growls as he cums inside the skull. Red magic droplets ooze out of the eye sockets. He chucks the skull aside. It falls on a pile of bones with a satisfying crunch. 

He waits to see if she’ll fall back asleep, but she seems to be holding out. 

No problem. He’ll see her tomorrow. 


	2. The Auction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Gore Level High for those not used to gore. Level Medium for those that are used to it ^_^

You cradle a thermos full of coffee as you wait at the detour sign with other team members. You purposely arrived late so you wouldn't be the first one there. It worked, but a few gave you funny looks as you came out of a car. (You had paid for a driver on one of those transport apps rather than walking the few blocks. It had cost you quite a bit too. No one wanted to drive in your part of town now that monsters were living underground). You told them you got the lift because you were running late. Some rolled their eyes. Others didn't really care. You wish you knew any of them beyond just the mission. All of your friends are in the capital, and you really needed one right now.

... not that you'd reached out to any of your friends. None of them wanted you to take this job. You know they'd just tell you to come home. You weren't ready to hear that just yet; so you spent the rest of the night trying to research anything on walking skeletons. But it was all old lore and myths that didn’t account for the intelligent versions of the species that you've encountered. Why are human records of monsters so biased and incomplete? 

Of course, you knew you wouldn't find anything. The lack of information out there is why no one understands monsters. It is the whole reason your team is here. But you searched anyway to give yourself something to do. There was one piece of advice that spanned across cultures and tales: skeletons are weak at their joints. You're hoping the prevalence of this information means that it is indeed a real fact. You also hope you won't need to test its truth. But as you look down at the dark path leading into the Burial Grounds, something inside you beats with a certainty that you'll see him again. 

Your phone rings and breaks you from your thoughts. It's the secretary from the governor's office, "We just wanted to inform you that Dr. Semarak has been reassigned."

Jalan’s left the team? You look around just to confirm he really isn’t there. What other assignment could be more interesting or important than what you are doing right now? 

You try to get answers, but the secretary is short with you. She obviously isn't expecting an interrogation. She just wanted to pass along information and continue her day, "We'll inform you when a new psychologist has been hired."

Why didn't Jalan mention anything yesterday? Then again, you didn't really give him any time to talk about himself. But why would he mow the lawn if he was just going to leave? 

Why are you are thinking about this so much? It's not like you haven't had people transfer jobs on you before. Many government workers were notorious for switching the minute a new opportunity presented itself. Connections and opportunities can happen overnight sometimes. 

But...

Nothing has felt right since your encounter at the store. Your thoughts are jumbled. You need sleep. And honestly, you had resolved to talk to Jalan and just ask him to observe the skeletons in his next round of appointments.

You finish the last dregs of your coffee and wish you had slipped something stronger inside it. You take a deep breath and mentally pull yourself together. Now you need to focus on the task at hand. You have work to do.

You tell the group Jalan isn't coming and everyone shrugs, ready to start the day rather than standing around. There is no clear leader in your group. You had become one by default since you arranged the schedule for promotion and had a direct line to the governor... through her secretary. In truth, most members of the team are pretty independent. Everyone had their own tasks and most didn't hide their boredom with these weekly gatherings to introduce themselves to a new area of monsters. They just want to get back to their labs and offices. You understand the desire to be in a controlled environment when there are so many unknowns below, but relationships needed to be made or their work would go no where. How else did they expect monsters to willingly meet with them? 

You turn to Camilla, the only Ebbott city native in the group. She's from the Ebbott Historical Society and is your guide in the Burial Grounds. "One down," she whispers to herself, but you hear her. She doesn't even hide the pity on her face. 

‘He's just reassigned! He's not missing!' you want to yell, but you restrain yourself. Still, her superstition cuts into your own insecurities. 

As you and the team walk past the detour sign, your feel the familiar excited thump in your chest. It’s a pull towards the center of this dark, crumbling city. This feeling is what keeps you coming back. It's why you're willing to ignore the warnings of your friends and the inappropriateness of a single monster. You can't explain it, but you just have this feeling that you're supposed to be here. This job is your destiny. You know it deep in your gut. But still..

As you look back at the blue sky behind you, some small fear inside you says you may never see that sky again. You fight the urge to run out of the Grounds and not look back. You won't let one monster shake your mission. You are going to have a place in this new history between monsters and humans. You feel it in your soul, and you won't turn back. This fear will pass. Like everything else, it will change with each new project you complete. You just need to take this one step forward at a time.

You take an empty slip from your mug and wish more coffee would appear. It is going to be a long day of questions and organization as everyone tries to gather the data they need without stepping on the toes of the others. Inevitably someone will grumble about preferring to work alone, but no one is allowed to leave the group during a "dive." It still isn't deemed safe and, as your eyes dart to every dark corner searching for that crimson grin, you agree with the policy. You take a deep breath and another step forward.

Still, subconsciously or not, you find yourself walking closer to the captain of the security guards on the team. There are twenty of them, fully armed. You try to make small talk with him until your guide leads your team down the wrong street. 

Yesterday you wouldn't have known it was the wrong street, but you had plenty of time last night to study the maps for today's mission.

"Excuse me," you jog over to Camilla, "I don't mean to be a nuisance, but I think we took a wrong turn."

"Your office informed me this morning that your plans had changed."

"What?"

"I was told to take you to the open air amphitheater in the... park," she hesitates with the last word. She's referring to Ebbott Field. You remember that spot on the map because someone had drawn over the park with several elongated semi circles surrounding the theatre. 

As you get closer to the physical location, you understand what the "artist" meant: they're gravestones. The park had become a neglected cemetery. The dates on the stones go back to the Great War. When the official cemetery filled up, they must have buried the overflow here. But you could tell no one had tried to landscape or tend to the area in decades. 

Why hadn't the office informed you of this change when they told you about Jalan? You haven't prepared any speeches or prepped the team for a Q&A in this sector. 

Your mind races with questions as you notice just how many monsters are walking past the graves to the amphitheater. Other monsters are picnicking on the once abandoned tables and barbecue grills. Its like you're walking in a twisted Memorial Day. Small reptilian hatchlings are playing tag around a large fenced off family grave. A huge wolf creature, missing patches of fur, is barbecuing thick slabs of meat, but only for a few seconds. He tosses them onto a plate as quickly as they hit the flame. Their raw juices drip on the dead, mostly dirt field. Small pups lick the muddy ground as the wolf pack settles in for their meal. But you notice each wolf has at least one eye trained on the members of your team as you walk by. 

"Do you notice the monsters seem to keep with their own breed even in this large gathering?" the biologist in the group notes in a whisper, trying not to disturb the moment. "They did that in the auditorium last week too."

“It's common for groups to associate only with family when crisis situations or major environmental stressors occur," the anthropologist adds. "It will be interesting to see how long it takes for them to establish friendships again."

"If they can," the psychiatrist mumbles beside you. "Trauma and distrust are not forgotten so easily. It will take years of sessions before we make any headway. I hope they send more teams soon."

"I'm pretty sure the next group dives in on Monday."

“Excellent."

The casual conversations fade as you reach the edge of the amphitheater. It is a giant arena. And though most of the seating is cracked, uneven stones in the carved earth, there's almost no empty seating left. 

"I advise we go back above ground," the captain of the security detail whispers to you. You're not sure how to respond. You've never talked to this large of a group before. There's even ice cream and hot dog vendors walking the stairs. You notice another vendor selling raw meat on a stick and cups of congealed dark liquid. The sight makes you feel a bit sick. These monsters are becoming more bold with their food cravings. You pause and remind yourself not to judge them for their differences in appetites.

"I can't guarantee your safety with this large of a crowd," the captain presses his concern. He pauses and then adds in an even lower voice. "I have a bad feeling about this one."

Surprised by his last statement, you look up at him, but his eyes are focused on the stage. A flashy suit wearing - robot? - has just walked onto the broken, stone platform below. You didn't realize monsters had created robots, but perhaps he is just a new breed? Red glowing eyes and a mouth jaggedly crafted into sharp points, he uses one clawed hand to dust off his patched but glittering game show coat. 

The other claw holds a rusty, stained chainsaw. He revs the motor to life and the crowd goes wild. Their cheers drown out any comments of surprise from your team. Your own voice is caught in your throat as your eyes lock with those of the robot. He laughs and kicks a leg high in the air. The gesture triggers a curtain behind him to open and reveal a twisted neon marquee. The letters are all welded together from different shop signs around the city. You read the words and your heart stops. You shouldn’t have come down here.

The robot greets his crowd, "WELCOME TO THE NEWEST EDITION OF ' _THAT'S MY HUMAN!_ ' I'M YOUR FABULOUS HOST, METTATON! AND THIS IS THE GREATEST AUCTION SHOW OF THE UNDERGROUND! YOUR ONE STOP SHOP FOR _PRIME MEAT_." 

What. The. Hell?

Someone in your team screams, and the crowd turns around to face you. Suddenly all you can see are hundreds of eyes, sharp teeth, and feral grins. Then the rest of the world freezes as the picnicking monsters stop their activities, too. It’s like a synchronized ballet, only you don’t know the steps. And now the team is surrounded. 

Trapped, you find it hard to breathe as the reality of your situation hits you. Something has gone horribly wrong.

"Abort mission!" You hear the captain take command. It is protocol that if things get rough, he takes control, but you never thought it would be necessary. Besides a tiny scuffle here or there, his guards’ hardest task so far has been getting caught up between two cat monsters brawling over a rat they found scurrying into the sewer.

How is this real? What about the peace agreement? When did the monsters change their mind? Which signs did you miss that indicated this outcome? You rack your brain at the speed of light but only one event has ever given you pause... one broken face with a glowing red eye and an unsavory appetite...

... is Sans the catalyst for this? 

"Why?" You say the word out loud and keep repeating it in your head as your team is surrounded by a large array of rabid-looking dog monsters. Their mouths foam and their muscles bulge under their matted fur.

The security guards raise their weapons, but in a flash of red light, all the guns are on the ground. The guards are holding bloody hands. Red glowing bones pierce into the dirt beside them.

"Watch out!" A second wave of bones stabs through the air and pins most of the guards to the ground by their limbs. They cry out in pain, but none of your team moves to help them. No one can figure out where the attack came from, but now you’re all fenced in by a circle of magic bones.

“NYEH NYEH NYEH,” you hear a cackle to your right and recognize the tall skeleton walking past his own magic at the edge of the circle. His gnarled teeth garble his speech, but you understand him through the sheer volume of his voice. "DO NOT RESIST OR I WILL BE FORCED TO DAMAGE MORE OF YOU."

It is said, that when faced with great danger, a person will meet who they truly are inside themselves. This is the second time in twenty-four hours that you have been put in such a situation. You clench your fist and square your jaw. You ran the first time. Not this time. You take a deep breath and remind yourself: you represent one of the strongest countries in the world. "What are you doing? We had an agreement of mutual protection!" you yell, craning your neck to look the tall skeleton in the eye sockets. "Papyrus, isn't it? Captain of the Royal Guard. Where is your Queen? This is -"

"a trap. always has been," Sans' voice cuts you off, and deflates your resolve by flashing you the grin that kept you up all night. Floating dragon skulls appear above the magic bones. A single red eye glowing in each, the skulls open their mouths menacingly. "oldest trap in the book,"

"BROKEN PROMISES." Papyrus beams with pride.

“learned it from your species," Sans grin turns grim. Then his eyes scan over your body, and he smiles again. "morning, sweetheart. you look a little tired."

You decide not to respond to his statement. His brother also doesn't give you time to, "IT IS TIME FOR THE SHOW! AND IT IS LIVE, SO WE CAN'T BE LATE."

"Our government will notice our disappearance. You won't get away with this."

"oh? call them,” Sans dares you with a cocky sneer that disarms you once again. His hands are still in his pockets. He shrugs, his shoulders relaxed. His confidence that you’re helpless frightens you.

"BROTHER WE DON'T HAVE TIME-"

Sans raises his hand, and Papyrus stops talking. "go ahead, sweetheart. call your government," his wicked grin is shared by many of the other monsters around you. Some of the dogs are kicking the ground up behind them with excitement. You can hear the dull roar of the crowd, unable to see much of what is going on and now talking amongst themselves. They aren’t worried that you’ll escape or that a punishment is coming. Why? The smell of raw meat and hot dogs is beginning to gag you, along with the bile creeping up your throat.

You're deeply afraid, but you'll be damned if you are going to give them the satisfaction of seeing it.

The chainsaw below revs again as you bring your phone out of your pocket . Your hand is shaking. You use your other hand to hold it steady. As you listen to it ring, one of the skulls blasts a laser beam out of its mouth and beheads the chemist who was trying to make a run for it in a large space between two bones.

You stare as the limp body falls to the ground. Others on your team wail in despair. Some fall to the ground in shock. You feel your knees go weak as well, but you straighten yourself. There is almost no blood; the laser cauterized the neck when it attacked. But her head rolls outside the circle of bones and gets picked up by a large wolf pup.

“YOU'RE ONLY SUPPOSED TO MAIM THEM, BROTHER!"

"oops."

"DEAD HUMANS DON'T SELL AS WELL AT THE AUCTION! METTATON WILL NOT BE HAPPY."

"his happiness is that important?" Sans raises a brow bone, and Papyrus blushes while your team watches wolf pups tear at the skull of your chemist.

You're dizzy, and you want to throw up.

"Heeellooooo?" A sing song voice is repeating on the other line. She's not the secretary you were talking to earlier.

"Where's the governor's secretary?" you ask, but your heart is already sinking.

"What?" she asks and then yells back to someone in the room with her. "Bratty! Why doesn't, like, anyone believe I'm a secretary? What do you say that I don't?"

You hang up the phone.

"wrong number?" Sans jokes. You try to call an emergency number but your phone flies out of your hand and into Sans'. His red eye glowing, he crushes your phone in his fist and tosses the fragments into the mouth of the closest dragon skull. It crunches the glass and metal cheerfully. Sans pets its head. "you only get one phone call."

"METTATON IS DOING HIS OPENING DANCE! DOGS, TIE UP THE HUMANS AND TAKE THEM DOWN THE STAIRS! IF THEY RESIST, YOU MAY HAVE A LEG, BUT NO MORE THAN THAT."

“it's good to see you back in charge, bro."

"THE GREAT PAPYRUS NEVER STOPPED."

"of course."

Your head swims with the brothers’ nonchalant banter as you're forced on your knees. A large dog bends you forward and nearly yanks your arms out of your sockets to tie your hands together behind you. The rope is tight and cuts into your skin when you try to move. The dog growls, daring you to try to escape. His hot drool drips on the back of your neck and down into your shirt. You try not to move; you barely breathe.

You glare at the cold, muddy ground soaking into your pants and sending shivers across your body. Is this really the end? Tears sting your eyes, and you let them fall. You listen to the prayers and cries of the others. You hear the chainsaw again and the cheer of the crowd.

You're all going to die.

"DO YOU WANT TO COLLECT YOUR HUMAN NOW, BROTHER?" You glare at the worn leather boots of the skeletons as they stand in front of you. Rough bone caresses your chin and pulls your head up. Sans' fractured skull is inches from yours. His breath is rotten, and his teeth glisten at the points. He’s Death himself, staring at you with that dark void of an eye, like a living Devil's Doorway. One you're not sure you'll escape.

"giving up already, sweetheart?" he whispers, his slimy red tongue breaching the space between you and licking the tears off your cheek. Then he turns to his brother. "you can take her with the rest. i'll win her fair and square."

"HOW UNLIKE YOU."

“heh, yeah." He releases your chin and kisses you on the forehead. "it's a new world."

An agonizing scream fills the field. "But I didn't resist!" A security guard cries as his leg is pulled from his body.

"WHAT AN ANNOYING DOG! HOW DID HE EVEN GET IN HERE? SHOO!" A scruffy white dog growls and runs away with the dismembered leg dragging in his mouth. "SANS?"

“on it, bro," Sans gestures to one of the skulls. It cauterizes the guard's body before they bleed out. Then the skulls and bones disappear into thin air. Your guard dog yanks you up and the march begins down the stairs, through the crowd of snarling, laughing monsters. You recognize a few from your talks in the neighborhoods... that were all lies?

Your mind keeps coming back to this fact as it continues to process it. The entire month was all an illusion? Every gain you thought you were making? Every deal?

When you reach the stage, you stare up at the crowd. There’s not a friendly face in sight, except for one skeletal grin in the back row. You spit on the stage to stop from throwing up.

“HATE BEING IN THE SPOTLIGHT?” The robot laughs with a dramatic kick in the air. “WELCOME TO MY SHOW, GORGEOUS! A SOUL LIKE YOURS IS GOING TO FETCH A HIGH PRICE! AND FROM WHAT I’VE HEARD, YOU’RE A FAN FAVORITE IN THE COMMUNITY! ISN’T THAT RIGHT, EVERYONE?” There are cheers, growls, and cat calls from the audience. You refuse to look at them, especially in the back row. Mettaton bends lower to speak to you at eye level. His voice softens, but still retains its game show flare, even though you're the only one who can now hear him. "That innocent drive to mend the tear between our species. It's adorable. Dramatic. Romantic. Comedic. You're delicious, human. I might just buy you myself... but, alas, you're our finale piece and such a buy would be too anticlimactic for the audience to bear."

You don't know what to say; so you say nothing. You let the roar of the crowd dull your senses, but the tears fall freely. What is the point of holding back?

Mettaton clicks his robotic tongue against metal teeth as he firmly guides you to the back of the line he's created. Before he leaves you, he tightens his grip on your arm and drops his false ebullience. The edge of his now silent chainsaw shallowly cuts into your side. You bite your lip to stifle a scream as he hisses, "Did you really think we would so quickly forget who trapped us in that mountain in the first place? Foolish, ignorant girl. Negotiations take place when there is a _mutual understanding_. Your pretentious, selfish species couldn't possibly understand, but we will make you. One. limb. at. a. time."

Mettaton resumes his bright smile, but you can now see clearly the malice in his cold, metallic eyes. He's bruised your arm; your side burns with your new flesh wound; but your heart feels the most battered. You look at your team as he jauntily hops away with effortless high kicks to get the crowd cheering. He’s right. You’ve all been dumb and acting with a level of superiority you only assumed. How many more teams will face the same fate thanks to the false sense of security you displayed in your media announcements of good will and progress? You were a tweeting canary in a mineshaft. But now that you'll be silenced, will anyone notice the warning? Or have these monsters somehow taken over your account like they've taken over the governor's office?

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! MONSTERS, MISTRESSES, AND MAYHEM! THIS AUCTION WILL NOW BEGIN!" Mettaton announces, dragging Camilla up to a makeshift wooden platform that looks like it's made from moldy pallets. Mettaton pulls out a small card from inside his jacket and reads from it in with dramatic flare, "OUR FIRST ITEM GOES BY CAMILLA. SHE'S THE HEAD OF THE EBBOTT HISTORIC SOCIETY AND A MOTHER OF 2..." He continues with the bio like a medical history chart, including her body mass index and number of teeth she still has. "LET'S START THE BIDDING AT-"

" _That’s my human_! 100,000!" A reptilian monster in front raises her scaled, yellow claw as she chants the show’s gimmick and announces her bid. She calmly waits for the crowd to settle from her outburst. A small, confident smile graces her face.

"Aw, no one will bid against the Royal Scientist." You're so far back on the stage that you can hear the robotic tech crew hidden in the wings and lighting they had rigged up in this outdoor arena. "Do you think she'll bid on all the scientists?"

"I hope not. She loves the academic ones. But what a waste. She never eats her humans."

“I heard she and the Queen dress their favorites up and have them reenact scenes from their favorite hentai."

“I heard they insert themselves in the scene."

“I heard half the royal children were incubated in their human pets."

“No! Really? Which ones?"

“Shh! The next item is up!"

Camilla was sold to the Royal Scientist, who promptly collared the guide and insisted on seating her in her lap for the rest of the show. Next up is the biologist who had to be held up by two guards because he no longer had the strength or presence of mind to stand.

You watch half your team get sold off for large sums - though none quite as large as Camilla's - all reciting “ _That’s my human!_ ” for the cameras. The stage smells of urine, feces, and vomit. The monsters didn't seem to mind the mess. They even laughed when the anthropologist burst into tears and had her tongue ripped out for refusing to be quiet. Mettaton ate it right in front of her as her mouth gushed with blood.

”WE'VE REACHED THE MIDPOINT OF OUR SHOW! LET'S TAKE A BREAK FROM THE LIVING AND MOVE TO OUR COLLECTION ON ICE!"

The Royal Guard wheeled out carts of bodies frozen in large slabs of ice. You only recognize the chemist, whose decapitated form went up for auction first, "THIS IS THE FRESHEST IN OUR COLLECTION. PERFECT FOR A FAMILY GATHERING OR SURVIVING THOSE HARSH WINTER STORMS..."

Every time Mettaton sold a body, the monster family who bought it would file out with their frozen prize only to have their seats taken immediately by some new family. The line to get into the show is unknown to you, but it seems endless. You’re beginning to wonder if you underestimated how many monsters came out of the mountain. 

“OUR NEXT ITEM HAS ALREADY LOST A LEG! WHAT DO YOU THINK, AUDIENCE? IS IT TIME FOR... _SLICE AND DICE_?” Mettaton revs up his chainsaw as the crowd chants "Slice and Dice!" over and over. You fall to your knees in a near faint as he cuts each limb off the security guard... alive and screaming for mercy. Eventually his screams gurgled to silence as Mettaton threw his organs to the hungry crowd. Blood splatters across your face, but you can't wipe it off. Your wrists are already raw from trying to get out of your bindings. You close your eyes for the rest of the show until you're dragged to your feet. You almost slip on the puddles of congealed blood left on the stage.

"YOU ALL KNOW OUR LAST ITEM. SHE'S BEEN QUITE ACTIVE IN THE COMMUNITY AND, THOUGH HER SOUL HAS DIMMED DURING THE SHOW, IT WILL STILL CARRY QUITE A PUNCH FOR THOSE WITH ILLNESS. OR, IF FOOD ISN’T WHAT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR IMMEDIATELY, SHE’LL MAKE A WONDERFUL PET. OPTIMISTIC SOULS CAN BRIGHTEN A HOUSEHOLD AND EVENTUALLY TASTE ESPECIALLY DELICIOUS WHEN FERMENTING IN BOUTS OF DEPRESSION. MMM COMPLEX SPIRITS ARE GREAT FOR DIGESTION-“

" _THAT'S MY HUMAN_!" Sans voice echoes over the crowd. All turn to look at him seated beside his brother in the top row. You look up at him too, but you've lost the will to fight. How many have you watched screaming for help? No one is coming. The stage is stained with that truth.

"SURPRISING TURN OF EVENTS! THE HUNTER IS BIDDING IN AUCTION! HAS SURFACE LIFE MADE YOU LAZY, BONE BAG?” Mettaton’s last remark is biting after being flustered by Sans interrupting his pitch.

"maybe a little rusty,” Sans sneers and you hear the Mettaton’s metallic body rattle.

“YOU FORGOT TO ANNOUNCE YOUR BID, BONE HEAD!”

“no bid,” Sans smiles and disappears. In a blink, he’s on the stage besides Mettaton, who jumps high in surprise. “didn’t mean to spook ya.”

“YOU CAN’T JUST TAKE OUR LAST ITEM! NOT EVEN THE QUEEN CAN IGNORE THE RULES OF AUCTION.”

“i invoke the highest law of the land.”

There’s a gasp in the crowd as Sans digs is hand through a hole in his shirt and into his rib cage. He brings out a dimly glowing white heart, cracked in so many pieces, that you wonder how it holds together.

You’re so fascinated by the flickering soul, that you don’t notice as he closes the gap between you. His free hand wraps around you, pulling your body against his. You can feel every bone in his rib cage press against you.

“dream come true,” he smirks as he takes your lips with his own. His cold bone against your skin is strange and... vibrates. You try to pull away, but his grip around you is firm. You feel the vibration now within your whole body, like you are a living tuning fork.

Sans raises his soul bearing hand above his head as he continues the kiss. The crowd awes in wonder.

You can’t see what they can, but Mettaton dictates it for the audience, “HIS SOUL IS REJUVENATING! YOU’VE SEEN IT HERE FIRST, EVERYONE! A SOUL MATE BOND BETWEEN A MONSTER AND A HUMAN! LOOK HOW THEY GLOW!”

Did he say-?

You open your eyes wide as Sans’ hand digs into your back. His own eyes are out of focus, like a person half asleep. You feel him inside you. He’s grasping at your heart. What is this magic? Before you can figure out what exactly is happening within you, he yanks out his fist, and you gasp in shock for air. He takes advantage of your open mouth and plunges his tongue inside, tasting every part of you he can reach. You gag as he slides his tongue further down your throat.

He releases you as you choke. You fall to your knees and wish your hands weren’t still tied behind you. You take your time recuperating and feel for the wound on your back by flexing your muscles. But there is no wound.

Did you just imagine-?

“Ooooh,” you moan as a sudden burst of pleasure comes upon you. It’s intensity is overwhelming. Your back arches instinctively and you blush, embarrassed at how close Sans’ crotch is to your face.

He looks down at you with that wicked grin, “i knew you’d come around.”

You have no idea what just happened, but you roll off the platform in disgust. You painfully fall on your arm and notice Sans wince in pain as well. It’s then that you also notice his other hand is holding a blue heart swirled with orange. “courageous integrity will only roll you so far, sweetheart.”

He licks the blue heart and you feel like he’s licking every part of your body. You plead, “Stop.” And surprisingly, he obliges.

“gotta save something for the honeymoon,” he chuckles, putting his soul back in his chest. He unzips his pants and cradles your soul in his pelvis. You can feel the rough edges of his bones against your skin. The dirt and odor of the skeleton surrounds your senses. When he steps towards you, it’s like your skin is on fire with the touch of him all over. By the time he jumps down and stands before you, you’re exhausted with sensations you can’t control.

When he unties your hands, his bone feels like it’s searing its imprint into your body, but the other sensations from before dampen. His physical connection is being prioritized by your nervous system. Preferring the latter to the former, you allow him to carry you. It’s less overwhelming than when you’re apart. He pulls your arms around his neck as the crowd looks on. You feel so weak. He whispers in your ear, “you make me stronger.”

“NOW THAT’S ONE WAY TO ENSLAVE A HUMAN!” Mettaton praises as the crowd cheers and makes rude noises.

Sans ignores them. His eyes have never left yours since he placed your soul inside him. He taps his forehead against yours. The jagged hole in his skull is right above your brow. You can feel its darkness as if it is also crawling in your own head. It scares you, but you’re exhausted from all the other frights of the day. It’s difficult to process any more emotions. 

“let’s go home,” he says and you smile, too weak to protest and too sad not to enjoy the small scrap of solace being presented to you.

You aren’t going to be on the stage anymore. You aren’t going to die. And the rest you can deal with later.


	3. The Trade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gore Level: Medium to Low depending on your tolerance.

When Sans let the dogs march you down to the stage, he glared at a bunny monster family until they gave up their seats in the top row for him and his brother. In truth, Sans had never liked the show, but it was a way to make money. His labor fed many a wealthy monster, too lazy to hunt on their own or too preoccupied with keeping up appearances... like the show's host.

Sans didn't understand what his brother saw in Mettaton. He's just a ghost wearing a suit to try and fit into a world he doesn't belong to anymore. His unfinished business seemed to be not getting enough attention. Besides that, there's something wrong with a food auction run by a monster who doesn't need to eat. His prices always went too high, and he never cared who the food went to. When they were still trapped in the underground, his high energy kicks flaunted how untouched he was by the famine. 

Heh, maybe that's what Paps liked about the dull-shine switchboard: it didn't seem like he had any weaknesses. His brother would admire that, especially as his own bones started crumbling under starvation... no matter how much Sans hunted. 

But Papyrus only knew the glamour side of that imitation superstar. Sans dealt with the back stage edition of his personality. A league of monsters could drown in the depths of his vanity with how thoroughly fame infected his circuits.  

Papyrus didn't know that monsters like Mettaton look down on those who hunt for food... and Sans will never tell him. His brother deserved to have fantasies, as long as they didn't get him killed. And Sans didn't worry about anything like that in this case. No buffed up, junkyard machinery will last in a match with his brother. It's to Mettaton's advantage that Sans remained the intermediary between them. Papyrus is unforgivingly merciless against any form of betrayal. Even if the lie is only for show business, Papyrus would not be able to accept that and Mettaton would be trash compacted. His brother is Captain of the Royal Guard for a reason. His loyalty is as unmatched as his martial skill.

Picturing Papyrus pulverizing the talking tin man brings a smile to Sans' face and puts him in a better mood. He can admit that shows like Mettaton's have their place. And this time, he is enjoying watching you purposely look everywhere but in his direction.

You'd change your attitude soon enough. This show will demonstrate how lucky you are to be owned by him, to be safe. 

But Sans isn’t expecting that rusted, bucket of bolts to present you last, and make him sit through the whole goddamn show. It is an unplanned torture. Watching you, frightened for hours, is so painfully erotic. The way your innocent eyes tear up drives him wild. And when you cry out in shock from each gruesome act - oh what he wanted to do to that gaping mouth! 

Your smell invades his skull throughout the show. All he can do is dig his fingers into the earthen seat below him and scratch against its stone edges. That metallic bastard had cut you just enough to make you bleed all over your shirt. And no matter how many humans are sliced on the show, only your blood registers in his senses. His mouth waters with the thought of licking your wound clean. He wants to devour your pain... you wear it so beautifully. 

If Papyrus notices his brother's uncomfortable squirming, he says nothing. His eyes are transfixed on the stage for other reasons while Sans feels the pressure build in his pants every time you wince in an attempt to escape. You’re trying to twist your hands frees from your rope bindings. You’re not succeeding, but you keep trying with an adorable, enduring determination. Then he nearly jumps out of his seat when blood splatters all over your body fromthe slice and dice event.

Your soul find a little, but you are so gorgeous in red, sweetheart.

When you are finally placed on the platform, Sans doesn’t wait for the grandiose speech by a monster who can only understand your superficial appeal. Mettaton's soul, devoid of substance, can only crave the juicy, tenderness of the soul’s shine. He can’t understand you. His parts would malfunction trying to satisfy your needs. You are ready for a real monster to claim you... 

With that singular thought consuming him, Sans silences the crowd and teleports to your side, "That's my human."

In a hungry daze, he finally presses his body against yours and kisses your dry, trembling lips. Despite all your fear, your soul flares to life with his touch. He smiles against your mouth. Happy to feel your body recognize him as your mate, Sans' bones hum with magic and pride. You will bear him so many powerful children. 

His desire overrides most of his rational thought. He pulls your soul from your body and almost loses himself inside you. Ready to breed, he starts to merge your souls, but recoils from the intense jolt of pleasure it causes. His soul has barely graced yours and he’s nearly ready to cum. The sensation literally weakens his knees and causes you to moan in the most undignified and intoxicating way. With your face down at his waist, your eyes plead for more before you regain yourself and roll off the platform in retreat. He is thankful for your strength of will. It ignites his hunter senses and rational thought soon returns.

He can’t take you here. You'd both be too vulnerable, and he has too many enemies on the stage alone. He tucks your soul away inside his pelvic bone to keep you compliant. It works. Your resistance becomes more malleable to his needs. Like putty in his boney claws, you let him pick you up and arrange your arms around his neck. You even smile into his collar bone with gratitude. 

_As you should be._

Now he has to decide how to get you safely away from these salivating creatures and breed you properly. Teleportation is a little too risky with your soul resting inside him. Flying is the better choice. He summons up his magic. Gravity shifts, surrounds you both, and picks you up into the air. Cradled in his arms, you look down at the crowd, far below, and pass out from both the mental and physical exhaustion of the day. Your resting, bloodstained face is adorable. Sans holds you a little tighter as your head leans against his rib cage. 

Trust. 

The bond between you is building quickly with your soul so close to his own. He can feel the pull in his chest: your soul is synchronizing with his own, vibrating sensations against his bones. It's... distracting.

Flying with gravity is not an easy task, especially as his magic shifts elsewhere... hardening within his pelvis. He can't stop himself from curling his penis around your soul, warmly seated against his bones. He gives his cock more length to completely surround your spirit. It causes you to turn in his arms. Your legs rub together in heated discomfort. You stay unconscious, but your arms are tightening around his neck. Your body warms, obediently readying yourself for the needs his soul is transferring to yours.

You whimper, pushing your chest against his ribs. He can't ignore you. While continuing to support your weight, Sans slides his hand around your ass.

The desire to breed is overriding his caution. He flies too high and almost hits a low hanging drainage pipe from the above ground roadway. He doesn't care. His soul thumps with a powerful demand to join with yours. His thumb wonders between your legs. The damp fabric hidden within only encourages him more. With a swift pressure of magic, his boney appendage pierces through your pants and straight into your moist folds.

You awaken, but under the spell of your souls' demands. You can't resist. His member throbs around your core and it's all you can feel. You pull yourself up on his shoulder blades, giving you leverage to wrap your legs around his waist and plunge his thumb further inside. You seem oblivious to the fact that you're flying above a city. You shudder against his bones and lock your lips around his mouth. Your heartbeat fills his ears, and he loses his concentration as he sinks more fingers inside you’re welcoming hole.

You're both steadily sinking lower to the buildings below. The hospital is still blocks away, but his focus is on the way your hands clench around his bones like you're trying to melt into him... because you are. Bodies always fight to return to their souls, and you're grinding your hips against his pelvis, trying to get inside. His cock is torn between staying wrapped around your delicious soul or leaving to thrust within your warmth, currently squeezing his fingers with uncontrollable skill.

Then you moan against his lips, and he grips your back with a fierce need to breed you now. He can't wait any longer. As he loses his resistance, he nearly slams your body through the nearest rooftop. Your vacant eyes barely register any pain as they close in a pleased hum at being pinned beneath him. You tighten your legs around him, and he spreads his fingers inside you. You moan again. He stretches you further. He needs to get you ready to take his eggs, they’re quite large.

You yell out his name as he continues to open you, and you beg him for more. Your soul is hot, burning against him, ready to merge. He unzips his pants -

When a menacing growl interrupts his action.

You sense something is wrong, but are unable to react in the haze of lust still clinging to your soul. Sans curses under his breath and finally takes in your surroundings.

Webs.

 _Shit_.

A lot of webs.

 _Fuck_.

Webs stretch across all the buildings as far as his skull can see. You're in a bald patch at the center of the roof, surrounded by messy cocoons of decaying skeletons, but not of his species. They are human.

Out of all the places for him to fall, this is one of the most dangerous for both of you. Spider monsters didn’t care what they hunted: monster, human, all were fair game in their world. The spiders had chosen their own Queen when the throne opened up: the vicious Muffet, Mother of Spiders; however, Undyne of the Royal Guard won the populace. The spiders acknowledged the win, but their own network was vast in trade and intelligence, traps and murder. Muffet became known as the underground’s Mafia Queen.

And this is now her above ground domain.

It is said that Muffet can trap, hunt, and kill with an efficiency that made even the Royal Queen hesitate and allow her to do as she pleased. The truth is known by only Sans and a select few: Muffet is the Queen’s former lover. Her hesitation comes not from fear, but, rather, a rarely known fact that the Queen has a difficult time denying the desires of the one she loves... or, in this case, loved.

When the barrier underground had been broken, Muffet had been pregnant - though her partner was unknown. She demanded satisfaction for her craving of human flesh. The Queen obliged. Muffet was granted the part of the city with the largest homeless population hiding in the Burial Grounds. This technically broke the peace accords while they were still being written, but the humans didn't know. Those homeless couldn't be missed if their government didn't even recognize that they were there.

The growl continues.

It isn't Muffet. It's... something as deadly as it is ugly: a pet given to the Spider Queen as a gift from the Royal Scientist. It goes by the name "Muffin," but Muffet's muffins were more like... blood pudding or meat pies. "Muffin" is just that: a walking mess of reanimated meat, wrapped in cobalt bindings with bandaged spider legs coming out in awkward angles. It has eight eyes like a spider, but each eye is from a different species amalgamated into the beast. Three of the eyes have been blinded from previous fights. Its body is nearly as scarred as Sans’, but there is no camaraderie between them. Sans is responsible for the blinded eye on the bottom right.

“long time no see," Sans says, unable to help himself. The beast snarls. It’s fangs drip with poison. Sans slowly rises to his feet. He let's your soul fall from his pants and reabsorb into your body. Nothing kills a boner faster than a feral, monster-eating beast. He needs you coherent and quickly. It is time to teleport. "didn't mean to drop in unannounced."

Muffin can't be reasoned with. It doesn't have the capacity for any thought besides a basic instinct to kill and feed. The only creature it listens to is Muffet. So Sans isn't surprised when the beast lounges instead of responding. However, he is surprised when he reaches down to grab your body out of the way, and you aren't there. "what the-?"

The beast's fangs pierce into his shoulder bone, and Sans yells out in rage. He feels his magic burn as dark whispers echo in his skull. _kill... kill... kill..._

The darkness beckons to be set free. It’s difficult to control the voice in his head when he gets angry. He can’t allow it to take over right now when you’re in the area. If he blacks out, who knows what he’ll do to you.

Sans scratches at the hole in his head as he summons his Gaster Blasters. The dragon skulls surround Muffin and fire their beam cannons; but the meaty lump of a beast is much faster than it looks. Muffin releases Sans and jumps high into the air to avoid the attack. Landing on a web above, Muffin scans the roof and one of its eyes locks onto movement behind Sans. He looks back. You are racing to the roof exit. Sans is caught between admiration for your strength of will and infuriation at how difficult you’re making it to rescue you.

Thanks to your bond, you’re clutching your shoulder as you run. Sans wonders if you can feel the poison rushing through the veins of his magic as well. Is it numbing your bones, too? If it is, you’re making a valiant effort of not showing it.

You reach the door, but it’s locked. You curse, and Muffin roars in glee. It prefers your fleshy body to Sans, and leaps towards you. Sans has the Blasters firing to change its direction. They succeed, wounding a leg and forcing Muffin to veer further away from you in momentary retreat. You’re frozen in place, starring at the spot where the beast had been hurling towards you. Sans takes a knee in an attempt to reach you. The poison is locking up his joints faster than he expected. _Survive... kill..._ He’s using up all his magical reserves in the Blasters.

 _Let go... kill..._ He’s getting weaker. He’s losing control. Muffin leaps again and again Sans uses his Blasters to fend it off. The beast roars and Sans roars with it as he falls to on his other knee. He looks in your direction as he feels himself slipping. “run... _o r   y o u ‘ r e   g o n n a   h a v e   a   b a d   t i m e_.”

 

The darkness bubbles up from inside Sans’ skull. It pours over his bones like tar. The Blasters transform as well into full bodied beasts with wings that have a span longer than your whole body. You stare for a moment longer, but jerk backwards as his glowing red eye sizzles into existence above the tar. He takes a step your way and the fatigue that had started to come over you vanishes. Your shoulder still hurts, but you can figure out why that is later.

You need to get out of here.

You’re “saved” by the giant Frankenstein spider that pounces on Sans. The two are much more evenly matched now, but Sans’ dragon skeletons are tearing at the beast at every opportunity. It’s only a matter of time until Sans wins this fight, and you don’t want to be around when he succeeds.

Your head turns in every direction looking for a fire escape. For your own sanity, you try not to let your gaze linger on the rotting human skeletons. There were obviously whole families eaten up here. The tiny corpses of children are too much for you to bear.

You locate the escape hatch but then the roof access door behind you creaks open, scraping across the ground.

What now?

You look in the doorway and eight violet eyes gleam at you from the darkness. A woman’s voice hisses, “Hello, dearie.”

You turn to run, but she’s faster. Arms grab at your body. Before you can blink, your back is pinned against her body. Claws hold down your legs, hips, and arms. A knife is at your throat, and you yelp as she pulls your head against her chest by yanking on your hair.

“Ahuhuhuhu,” she giggles into your ear. Her whole body shakes, and you feel her swollen belly, molded by large bumps of eggs, rub against your back. The blade of her knife presses against your skin. “I’ll need you to scream much louder than that, dearie. Be sure to say the skeleton’s name, and put your soul into it. Your life depends on it.”

“SANS!” You yell, nicking your own neck against the blade when you take a large breath. You hiss in pain. Sans stops grappling with the beast as both monsters sniff the air and simultaneously look in your direction. Their hungry eyes are identical. You don’t feel any safer.

Both monsters head in your direction. Then they realize they’re after the same prize, and start fighting each other again.

“I guess you’re not useful after all, dearie,” the woman whispers. Her fangs dig into your skin, and she takes one quick suck before tossing you to the side. Your face scrapes across the rough cement floor, and you land at the foot of a corpse. Webs stick to any exposed skin. You scramble away but lose control of your limbs as pain shoots through your muscles followed by numbness.

Oh no...

Your neck is swelling where she bit you. You feel nauseated and start to vomit. You need to get off this roof, but everything hurts. Helpless, you look up at the battle before you and wonder if this is the end, the last thing you’ll ever see.

You watch the pregnant spider battle with a ferocious barrage of knife attacks. Naked, her belly is glowing with purple orbs, but it doesn’t slow her down. She’s lean with muscle and scarred as most monsters are who have survived their underground life. Wrapped around each limb is a utility belt of sorts. That must be wear her blades came from.

She’s vicious, and Sans - even in this new, scary black sludge covered form - is weakening. His dragon blasters are disintegrating to dust one by one, and the tar is dripping away to expose dirty, chipped bone.

The spider lady laughs, “Ahuhuhu, you shouldn’t televise your weaknesses, dearie. How pathetic. I would not have guessed _you_ would cling to that soul bond while she’s dying! Oh dearie, I guess the girl did have a use. _You’ll die together!_ ”

Die...

You’re... dying.

Yes, you know that. You fight to move but you can only flop as paralysis starts to take hold. What can you do? Even if you get off this roof, where would you go? There’s no pharmacy, no working hospital, and no rescue team coming. All you have is... a skeleton monster who wants to fuck you and maybe eat you.

You cry, trying to move again, but only succeeding in gasping for air and peeing - no, worse than pee - in your pants. You’re light headed and close your eyes, not sure if you’ll ever wake up.

 

Sans can feel the poison in your body as well as Muffin’s that is infecting his own. The adrenaline is wearing off as the voice in his head is now only incoherent whispers. He doesn’t have the strength to sustain it.

Muffin growls near his skull, but Muffet keeps it at bay with tiny pats on its head. “Shhh, my pet. Dinner’s almost ready.”

Sans grits his teeth, not giving her the satisfaction of hearing his pain. He will not beg. Muffet shakes her head, two hands cradling his skull as he glares at her. “My pet’s venom only causes paralysis, but mine... why not cut the bond? She’s delicious, but still just a human. Not worth dying for. Or do you not know how? Ahuhuhu. You don’t, do you? I forget how young you are. I’ve gone through five soul mates so far. After I collected their seed, I’ve eaten every one of them. I-“

Muffin howls in pain as red bones pierce through each of its feet, staking it to the roof. Muffet hisses, backing away from Sans. More bones hover over the beast, waiting.

“YOU WILL LET MY BROTHER AND HIS MATE GO!” Papyrus announces from the ledge of the roof. He’s panting and covered in webs and spider blood. But his eyes are glowing red and furious.

Muffet’s eyes narrow. “I don’t take orders from the Royal Guard, dearie.”

“I AM NOT DEAR TO YOU. BUT THIS PET IS. I BELIEVE WE HAVE A TRADE TO BARTER,” Papyrus leaps off the roof ledge and walks closer. His torn cape billows behind him. Sans’ hero. He couldn’t be more proud of his little brother.

“Two for one is hardly a fair deal, but I’ll accep-“

“she poisoned my human,” Sans spits out and coughs up dust.

“AND HEAL THEM.”

Muffet pulls out a donut, glazed with blood. “If you want this, you’ll need to sweeten the deal... Captain.”

“WHAT DO YOU WANT?”

“venomous bitch,” Sans grunts afterwards in another cloud of dust.

“I want children of standing in the future guard,” Muffet says, and then adds, “You lack... diversity at court.”

“I CAN ACCEPT SPIDERS FOR TRAINING.”

“No, skeleton, you misunderstand. I want children in the guard _by heritage_ ,” Muffet licks her fangs and rubs her glowing belly while she waves the donut in front of Papyrus, who is beginning to blush at his cheekbones.

“YOU WANT TO MATE WITH ME?” Papyrus’ voice reaches a new octave as Sans coughs in surprise. Papyrus has never bred before. Muffet takes advantage of the shock and closes the space between her and Papyrus. Her hands caress his bones and armor.

“I need my offspring to be strong in this new world. A boss monster like you will give them power in magic and name, _my Captain_.”

Sans is beginning to wonder who she mated with for the clutch she’s incubating now... perhaps the Queen had more reasons than he knew for giving her this quarter of the Grounds. “don’t do it, br-“

“I AGREE TO YOUR TERMS, BUT I REQUIRE EQUAL CUSTODY OF MY SPAWN.” Papyrus nods without further hesitation.

Muffet’s shoulders tense up, but only for a moment, “Deal.”

“...no.” Sans protests go unheard.

“NOW GIVE MY BROTHER THE ANTIDOTE TO SAVE HIS FIRST LOVE.”

Muffet flicks the donut back to Sans who catches it in midair. He stumbles over to your body. You’re barely breathing. He rolls you over and cradles your head in his boney lap. The wound on your neck is nearly the size of a baseball. Your veins blackened and your skin paled, you’ve soiled yourself, but you still smell better than him. He opens your mouth, and places the donut to your lips. You’re too weak to chew.

“you gotta eat,” he says, but you don’t respond. He can feel your heart failing as your lungs lose their battle to paralysis. It starts to crack his soul, threatening to dust.

There’s no time. He puts the donut in his mouth and chews it up. It tastes like ground beef. The blood icing adds a wonderful metallic zing. He can taste the magic inside and leans down to your mouth. He spits part of the masticated glob past your lips. He uses his tongue to force it all the way to the back of your throat. You choke, but it goes down. He repeats until you’ve had all of your medicine.

Your eyes open wide, and you bite at him. Sans sits up with a chuckle as the color comes back to your face and the swelling drains out. Black puss pools down your neck. “welcome back, sweetheart.”

“What was that?” you ask, tasting your mouth with disgusted flicks of your tongue.

“true love’s kiss,” Sans jokes, but instead of laughing you roll and vomit most of the donut up. Sans isn’t worried. The magic has obviously already been absorbed. You faint as your body focuses on using the magic for healing the other cuts and scrapes you’ve sustained. He picks you up, and listens to Papyrus apologize to Muffin for causing it pain.

“I’ll be seeing you in spring, big boy,” Muffet laughs, kissing Papyrus’ cheek as she rubs her belly again. Sans’ looks down at you and thinks about how much more beautiful you’ll look when your belly is as full with his seed.

“IT IS DANGEROUS TO BREED AND FLY AT THE SAME TIME," Papyrus states like a public service announcement. "WHY WOULD YOU STOP HERE WHEN WE HAVE A PERFECTLY SUITABLE NEST AT HOME?"

“i’m sorry, bro.”

“HOW IS YOUR HUMAN?”

“she’s going to be okay. thanks to the great papyrus.”

“FLATTERY WILL GET YOU EVERYWHERE. LET’S GO HOME, BROTHER. I AM STARVING.”

“ok, bro. i’ll cook tonight.”

“YOU WILL NOT. THE KITCHEN CANNOT SURVIVE ANOTHER FIRE.”

“heh.” Sans feels his magic return to strength thanks to the donut and your body’s healing. He picks all three of you up with gravity and heads to the hospital.

“SANS,” Papyrus says now that they’re out of earshot from the spiders. “SHE SCARES ME, A BIT.”

“don’t worry, bro. it’ll always be two against one with her. i’ll have your back. she won’t catch me off guard again.”

“SANS... _you let him out_ ,” Papyrus voice drops to an almost unintelligible whisper, but Sans can understand his brother, no matter how mangled his teeth become.

“yeah, i know, bro. not one of my strongest moments.”

“Did he... say anything to you when he... took over?”

“just his usual. i blacked out through most of it. don’t worry, bro. we’ll bring him back,” Sans clutches your body closer to his. You are more precious than you’ll ever know. “she’s going to help us bring him back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Part 4 coming soon... gods forgive me)


	4. Betrayal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: explicit rape
> 
> Gore level: low/mild

You wake up in a haze of sleep that feels like it's lasted for days. Your body aches, and you stretch in dull remembrance of wounds that no longer exist. You're surrounded by the warmth of bones. Sans' arms tighten around your stretching body while soft blue and red lights dance across your closed eyelids. Your naked body cushions against his skeleton with a familiarity you shouldn't have. And in a relaxed bend of your back, you sink into his comforting embrace.

Some part of you says this isn't right, but a deep yearning is overriding any logical thought. His fingers curl into your sides as your bodies intertwine bone and flesh. His mouth finds yours in the dark and your moans echo within the hollows of his jaw.

It's only the rotten smell of his breath that wakes you from this intimate arousal. The rotting meat stench opens your eyes and unlocks the memories of yourself, the spider attack, that horrific auction... blood splattering across your face. You pull away from him, and it feels like you're tearing off your own skin. You almost wish you were because the blood is still there. It's crusted on your cheeks and side. Dried puss lingers on your neck from Muffet’s poison.

You look around at the nest of blankets you're both resting on. The dirt and grit of your bodies is all over them, and it smells of death. The nightmare of the day before swarms your mind along with all the reasons you despise this monster, your captor. He's dragged you to hell; and yet... you can barely move more than a foot from him without a painful throb in your chest. 

Why?

Now that you're out of his embrace, you can see more clearly. The blue light in the room isn't coming from the barred windows but from his chest. Your soul is dancing inside his rib cage! This explains the hollowness and involuntary need to rush back into his arms.

"Give it back!" You yell, finding the strength to move to the edge of the bedding made up of a dozen comforters and random throw pillows in various states of disarray... and decay. You don’t let yourself look down at any bits or pieces you encounter until your fingers finally reach the old linoleum tile of the floor beneath. It's cool to the touch. Everything feels cold now that your separated from him.

"i like it where it is," Sans’ sleepy laughter is punctuated by a yawn. He takes his time stretching. Your soul has plenty of space to escape, but it doesn't. "you'll have to come and get it."

You want to tackle him, but you hesitate. You don’t trust what you’ll do when you touch again. Already your heart jumps at his come hither look. Your breath caught at the dip in his voice. His soul is orbiting yours with the faintest of caresses that is sending invisible tendrils across the shadows. It’s bringing unwanted shivers across your skin that feel so good, but you try in vein to shake the sensation away.

Realizing you aren’t coming closer, Sans sighs, “why are you still fighting this?"

You look away from him. Eye contact seems to make your connection stronger. However, what you see out in the large expanse of room is almost as frightening. The walls are decorated with bones, blood smears of runic symbols, and, in one corner, pictures of you from events and meetings you didn’t even know he had attended. There are even pictures of you moving into the neighborhood. He’s been taking pictures from your street, from your yard, and _inside_ _your_ _house._ There’s one taken beside your bed.

You tear your eyes from his creepy altar and screech a the sight of a human skull not five feet from you. It's just sitting there on the ground like a piece of discarded garbage. And a few feet from there is... a crib. Over a dozen of them fill the room. None of them match. Sans must of scavenged them from all over the area.

“you like it?” Sans smirks, punctuating his words by fingering your soul through his rib cage. Your heart starts to beat to the rhythm of his finger. Your eyes follow his movements and then wonder over his naked bones. Your breath shallows with memories of how good his body feels against yours.

Sans chuckles and you’ve forgotten he asked a question. “i see you do.”

“Yes - No!” You shake your head in disgust at how difficult it is to fight this command he has over you. Yesterday you didn’t even know souls existed, and today it’s effecting every decision you need to make.

Unfazed by your contrary response, Sans shrugs. He pinches a side of your soul, and you feel it everywhere: cheeks, arms, nipples, clit. You curl up into a ball on your knees as if that will somehow stop his ability to effect you, but it doesn’t. You’re trapped under his relentless touch unless you can get your soul from him.

But every time you raise your head, he teases at your soul with new sensual attacks.

"Why me?" You choke out in weak defiance. With the barred windows and boarded up emergency exit, the only way out is across the room. It might as well be miles away. Your body is shaking from the effort of keeping only a few feet away from him.

"you know why," he smiles, his magical tongue licking his lips like it did the first time you met. You knew then what his intentions were; even if you didn't want to admit it. "you feel the connection.”

"No!” You yell, blushing at the effect his twirling finger is having on your body.

"then why didn’t you keep running?”

Because it was your job. Because you don’t intimidate easy. Because... you felt like your destiny would be found in relations with monsters. Because you wanted magic in your life.

How many times were you warned as a child to be careful what you wish for? The fae always twist dreams to their will.

Dreams. His teasing is bringing last night’s dream back into your mind with the vivid sensation of him mounting you from behind...

NO!

You try to cover your erect nipples, and squeeze your legs shut. But you can’t hide how wet you've become from his ministrations. He sniffs the air around you like an animal and grins. The crimson light of his eye sparks with energy. It casts a bloody hue across his skeleton. Exaggerating the jagged edges of the hole in his head. It’s dark swirling emptiness threatens to consume you; but your body answers with giddy anticipation. "you're ready for me."

"Stop it!" You plead as he begins to crawl towards you. Your mind screams for you to run, but you also can't stop admiring his thick bones prowling closer. 

"actions speak louder than words,” he growls, and your body spreads your legs for him.

“No! You're manipulating me! I don’t actually- I wouldn’t-“ you’re finding it impossible to finish the words. “You're just a monster! And you eat people! You reek of it!"

You keep rambling as his head crosses the boundary between your knees. He smirks, "so you'll stay with me if i take a bath?"

He doesn't wait for you to answer before he dips his head and kisses the inside of your thigh. You have to nearly bite through your lip to keep from moaning in delight.

"No!" If you keep saying it, will it break the spell? "No. No. No. No. No."

It’s the only word you can get out clearly, but he doesn't stop. His kisses trail lower. They're tender - almost loving - if only they were consensual. You cry as you collapse in pleasure under his mouth. Your body falls back, and he catches your head before it hits the tile. He pulls you closer into his nest and pins you there with the weight of his body. His boney fingers tangle in your hair. His face hovers above you.

Inside the boney prison of his chest, his soul finally pounces on yours. It sets your body on fire with a primal need you’ve never felt before. You gasp from the intense sensation, and he takes the opportunity to claim your mouth again. His tongue dances with yours before you get a grip on yourself and bite him. He recoils, but only for a moment. Shaking his head, he licks the sensitive spot behind your ear. "i'm gonna make you mine.”

He pulls your hip up to meet his pelvis, warm and stirring with magic. You just repeat your chant over and over, "No. No. No. No. No."

His hard bones begin to bruise against your inner thigh. "your soul says yes.”

His soul rubs against yours to emphasize his point. You scream, moan, and cry as your mind battles with the intense pleasure it causes both of you. He grinds his bones between your legs and sends your sensitive clit reeling to life from the contact. His calloused, rough edges moisten against your welcoming, traitorous body, covered in sweat and yearning for him to place himself inside you.

"No. No. No. Nnnnnn-" It's getting harder to form words as your bodies grope at each other. He muffles your mouth with his tongue. You let him deep into your throat and forget to bite him this time. Every part of you is humming. You feel like you're floating. You grasp at his rib bones to try and remain grounded. You hope your roughness is painful to him, but he doesn't seem to mind. You try and grab your soul, but the two have sunk down low into his pelvis. In another moment of clarity, you lock eyes with him and plead, "I don't want this."

"you will," he answers with what could have been considered a caring smile,if he wasn't doing the exact opposite of what you asked.

The magic in his pelvis tingles between your legs as it starts to harden into a familiar shape. His tip caresses your entrance with a rattle of satisfaction in his bones that your body imitates. You hate yourself as you spread your legs wider, and he starts to slide in.

"No! No! No! No!" You chant it like a prayer to gods who aren't listening. You scream it as he thrusts himself inside. You moan it. Cry it. Scream it. All the while your body edges closer to orgasm. His size is perfect. His movements are incredible. His rough bones make your skin sing in pleasure, and his mouth nibbles your neck in all the right places.

And you don't want any of it.

"No. No. No. No. No!" Your voice is your only retaliation. He lets you yell it at the top of your lungs, but he doesn't stop.

"No! No! No...oh... oH... OH-OH-OH!" His cock rubs the exact spot inside you that starts to chain your orgasms while he stimulates your clit. You lose your breath in extended disbelief at how he knows your body so well. It takes you multiple orgasms before you regain the abilities to pronounce the 'n.'

“...no,” even you admit that last one was pretty weak as you catch your breath.

His incredible skill is driving you insane. Your souls are now nearly merged into one and you’re mentally breaking apart as everything you do seems to also be perfect for him. You clawing at him and jut in a random spurts of defiance. But he just growls in joyous appreciation and thrusts harder.

The longer he's inside you, the more desperate you become. You bite him; he moans. You remember joints are a skeleton's weakness and chop at his elbow; he changes positions to a sideways thrust. He lifts your leg to pummel you at the perfect angle, and you scream in another agonizingly glorious orgasm.

You cry as he rolls back and lets you ride him. You've lost all control as your body bounces up and down in hungry need for more orgasms. He wipes your tears with rough fingers as you cum again around his cock. "your perfect."

You shake your head in a silent ‘no,’ but the word is lost in the ‘oh’ of another orgasm. You've lost yourself. Like a marionette, your strings tighten with every thrust. His desires start to become yours. His fears of extinction - of losing more family - resonate inside you until you can feel your soul replicating with his.

 _You’re_ _creating_   _new_ _life_.

No!

But the resistant part of you is trapped under layers of magical barriers. Outside your mind, you laugh in playful enjoyment as Sans rolls on top of you again. His hard edged body pushes your back into the soft cushion of blankets. His cock throbs inside you, and he cups your tear stained cheeks in his hands. “i love you.”

Please... stop...

He thrusts himself so deep within you, begging him to fill you.

No... no... no...

His cock transforms inside you. His girth grows as his tip becomes needle-like. Piercinh through your inner wall, he pries  it open with a jolt that leaves you screaming in ecstasy.

Stop... please...

Your souls fuse into a large knot at the base of his cock.

No...

He nearly tears you apart as he thrust the knot inside. Sheathing himself completely within you, he growls in satisfaction. You drool with eager anticipation for his seed.

I don’t want this...

Magical energy burns from his knot and overwhelms you with a vibrating pleasure.It unlocks you like a key opening a forbidden door. The last resistant voice inside you is suppressed as consent loses all meaning under the authority of instinct. You both become ruled by it. Your bodies cling to each other in passionate bouts as your souls' mate in an ancient dance.

It all becomes one pleasurable blur as he cums, bursting forth an egg that has you reeling in pleasure as it crosses into your womb and plants itself within you. You moan into your lover's mouth as he keeps you pinned for another egg... and then another. He doesn't stop. There's a fourth, then a fifth. You beg for more. You can take so much more.

Your stomach rises to accommodate the seventh... then the eighth.

Magic takes over your womb to help it stretch you more. He flips you over to let your belly swing down and grow with the ninth. Then the tenth.

You're both panting in primal noises that echo in this room full of cribs. He massages your belly to guide the eleventh... twelfth... thirteenth...

...Fourteenth...

Then he shudders with a howl as the last egg bursts forth and squeezes itself within your crowded womb.

His knot shrinks and your souls return to their rightful places in utter exhaustion.

As you come back into consciousness, you stare down at the filthy blankets. You're shaking on your hands and knees. Your belly nearly touches the fabric. It glows with a technicolor array of orbs.

No. You repeat it fourteen times in your head as Sans kisses your back.

"you're beautiful," he praises, but all you can do is cry. Tears of joy mix streams with tears of miserable loss at the life you had before. How will you escape now? What have you become?

"shh," he whispers in your ear as he guides you to your back. Your stomach rises like an insurmountable mountain before you. "i'm gonna take care of you."

No. No. No. No. No.... the words keep repeating in your head, but you're too weak to say them. You need rest, and you're too tired to fight him as he cuddles beside you. His hand pets each orb before he falls asleep.

With all the other lights gone, you focus on the glow from each orb. Faint oranges, blues, and greens shine through your stretched skin. The sight is so alien that it’s hard to accept these are your children too. But your soul sings it. Your mouth contorts in a smile and a frown as this awful dichotomy within you shows no sign of stopping. Your soul may belong to him, but the rest of you still remains.

You trace each orb bump and wonder how human they could possibly be if they are born this way. How human are you? Mating with a monster. Should that even be possible? Look at you! You’re like a pregnant glow worm! And...

...and deep in your core, you like it.

No...

...yes.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When you awake, Sans is gone, but his scent lingers all around you. Your soul tells you he’s on the mountain hunting. Your stomach tells you need meat... and tomatoes... and cheese. Pizza? Tacos? Butter chicken? Where would you even get such things in this underground hell hole? You couldn’t walk the surface like this! Can you even walk at all?

It takes you a few tries to roll into a sitting position. Your ab muscles have been made useless, and you’re worried about crushing an egg if you lean too much on any one of them. But soon you realize the massive bundle is flexible enough to put some weight on them in order to get to your feet.

When you’re finally standing, you survey yourself. Blood, pus, dirt, and sweat cover almost every inch of your body. You need a shower, but you wonder if the water management project workers fell to the same fate as your team.

... your team. They’re all gone. You didn’t know them as well as you could have, but no one deserved what happened yesterday. You need to warn the surface. A bath could wait. You find a sheet with minimal stains and wrap it around yourself in a makeshift toga. You have to let people know what these monsters are planning.

You take a slow step and nearly trip over the knotted blankets on the floor. You curse aloud at the unintended obstacle course that is this mess of bedding. It complicates an already difficult rebalancing. The eggs aren’t too heavy, but they aren’t light either. Leaning too much to any side will cause you to topple over. You catch yourself on a crib, and are surprised by your panic at possibly harming a little one if you’d hit the floor.

You care about them. One hand has never left your stomach since you awoke. You could rationalize that it’s just a morbid curiosity of your changed body, but it’s more than that.

Instinct? A soul mandated check up on their warmth?No, it’s more than that as well.

 _They’re_ _your_ _children_. And though unwanted, it’s impossible to ignore them when they’re so prominently present. Magic allows you to feel them grow. And that glowing light in each orb is their soul. Fifteen souls...

Fifteen.

What an overwhelming number.

But they’re yours and that means something to you.

You waddle forward, but stay close to the cribs, just in case. You don’t know what your plan is, but you can’t stay here. As you exit the room decorated by bones, blood, and obsession, you make a resolution: if you’re going to birth these children, they will not be raised by him.

You make your slow walk across the hallway of what must be the hospital. You jump at every sound, but Sans is still away. Does he live alone in this big building? What about his brother?

You reach the elevator but notice a post-it note taped to the door. OUT OF ORDER AND BOOBY TRAPPED. The door to the stairway has a similar note. ALSO BOOBY TRAPPED. This time the O’s in ‘booby’ have been drawn over with a pencil to make them into boobs. Another post-it note below it reads, DO NOT DOODLE ON MY WARNINGS FOR YOUR WIFE! The O’s in this doodle are also vandalized. This time with poop emojis.

Then the word ‘wife’ sinks in. That’s you.

Wife?

You rub the orbs under your clothes and feel their warm bodies full of magic. Then the memory of how they were made follows close behind.

No. Never.

You’re so angry at the marital assumption that you turn the doorknob in defiance. It swings open to a normal looking staircase. Maybe the note was a lie? You rub the orbs through your sheet, and decide you don’t want to risk it. Maybe there will be another sign of a safe exit? If not, perhaps you’ll take your chances.

You head down the dim corridor and past the “Authorized Personnel Only” double doors. This section of the hospital is significantly cleaner than the other side. You don’t feel like you have to look for broken glass or a stray bone on the floor.

Each room is full of old fashioned equipment or hooks for apparatuses that have long since been scavenged. You see a red glow coming from the last door in the hall. You decide to turn around, but then you hear a muffled scream.

You hesitate. Hand rubbing your bulbous stomach, you’re not in a position to help anyone.

“No. No. No...” you hear a familiar voice beg.

Your voice.

Then Sans’ growls.

A recording from last night? You have no idea what is going on, but hearing your own pleas echoing against the walls is maddening. You charge down the hall and into the doorway. But you aren’t prepared for what you find.

Papyrus is sitting in an office chair surrounded by sound equipment. His bare bones are highlighted by the blinking lights on the machines and his glowing magic cock pumping in his hand. His own moans are whistling through the jagged layers of his teeth, and you can’t suppress a cry of disgust. His eye sockets open wide as he hears you, standing before him. The sound of your moans and cries fill the space between you.

“HUMAN!” Papyrus bolts upright in his chair. His fist squeezes his cock so hard in surprise that he winces as he tries to say more.

You don’t give him time to explain; or time to try and reenact what his brother has already done; or time for whatever thoughts fill his twisted fucked up skull.

You race in a semi-hopping waddle that you’re sure you shouldn’t be attempting. Your stomach jiggles painfully, but you don’t slow down. You hear Papyrus stumble around in his chair and bang on some of the equipment before he rushes after you. The clack of boney feet hitting the tile floor echoes behind you. You crash through the double doors and head towards the stairwell.

“STOP!” you hear him yell. But, just like the recording he was enjoying, that word is ignored. You step on the landing and the stairs begin to glow like a disco floor. Each stair is divided in three squares that change color periodically. “YOU DO NOT KNOW THE DIRECTIONS!”

You step on a green square and nothing happens. You step down to the next stair and the square transitions to red. Fire rises in activation and burns the sole of your foot and then rises up to the hem of your toga. You scream jumping down to the next stair while desperately trying to keep your balance by holding onto the rail. The fire is rising up the thigh of your sheet while the blue light beneath feels like splashing in water. It cools the burn on your skin, but only for a moment. You yelp and lose your hold on the rail as teeth attack your feet from invisible predators.

You’ve lost your balance. 

You brace yourself for the fall and wrap your arms around your belly. You turn so you’ll hit the stairs on your spine. Instead you land in Sans’ arms. He hovers you both away from the trap floor. The scent of the woods and dead carcasses clings to his clothes as he cradles you effortlessly above the staircase.

“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?” Sans roars, patting out the fire on your clothes with a swift slap. He glares at your feet and tightens his claws around your waist and shoulders. You whimper as you look down at the blood dripping from your masticated toes. Dime sized chunks are missing from your seared feet. Anger burns in your captor’s eyes as he looks between you and Papyrus. Then his tone drops to a deadly octave, “why are you naked, bro?”

“Ah!” You yell out in pain as your adrenaline fades. Your feet throb and your leg sears with the burn.

“no time,” Sans cuts Papyrus off from his explanation. “med room.”

Sans flies you past his brother and back through the double doors. You tighten your grip around his neck and feel his soul beat in his rib cage under his shirt. It’s warmth helps dull the pain. “you could have been killed.”

“You really mean, ‘you could have harmed the eggs’,” you bite back into his shoulder blade. His clothing muffled your words, but he hears you just fine.

“don’t tell me what i mean,” He kicks open a door and sets you down on an operating table. “you’re my mate.”

“You raped me,” you spit out as you slap his hand away from lifting your toga.

“human term. you can’t rape soul mates,” Sans tries to lift the sheet again. You slap him away again. “do you have to be stubborn about everything?”

He growls, but you snarl right back while clinging to your sheet with all your strength. “Is asking even a concept for your species?”

“i’m trying to make sure you’re okay,” he grumbles as his brother runs into the room.

“He has a recording of last night,” You yell with an accusatory finger pointing at the tall skeleton.

“i know. now can i examine our children?”

“They’re fine! One’s a little jumpy and another is doing spins but most are resting!” You shoe his hand away again. “You knew he was recording us?!?”

Sans ignores your last question and instead just smiles as he looks down at the light of each egg glowing through your sheet. His brother remains silent on the subject and searches through the cabinets with a red blush permanently on his face. “one’s a little jumpy, huh? which one?”

You point to a green glow at the bottom right of your stomach. Sans moves his hand above the spot and then stops, “may i?”

You nod and almost smile. But one small gesture does not make up for everything that’s happened.

When he lays his hand over the egg, the fetus inside jumps towards him. It’s still too small for him to feel, but you do. A flood of positive emotions burst forth from your soul, but you suppress its manipulation. This monster is a killer and a rapist. He is not your lover. He’s your captor and nothing more.

“I HAVE FOUND THE CANDY!” Papyrus declares while also holding some bandages and antiseptic.

You’d completely forgotten about your wounds. Your feet look awful. They’re pooling with blood from the small crater-like bites and the burn looks quite severe. “Why don’t I feel anything?”

Papyrus looks at you with wide eyes as he twists the lid of a mason jar full of jeweled candy balls. “HOW HAS YOUR SPECIES SURVIVED WITHOUT PROPER KNOWLEDGE OF SOUL MATES? MY BROTHER IS USING YOUR BOND TO ABSORB ALL YOUR PAIN.”

“What?” You look at Sans, but he only shrugs.

“i’ve been through worse. you’re carrying our line,” he looks down at your stomach again with proud eyes. You can’t see a hint of the pain he must be feeling, but you now realize he’s still floating. He’s not putting any weight on his feet.

You should be saying ‘thank you,’ but you can’t quite get the words out after everything else he’s done. You take the candy medicine offered to you and then jump as a shot pricks your arm.

“Hey!” You exclaim, but your eyes start to droop and soon you’re asleep.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sans waits until your breath evens out in a peaceful rhythm. You’re so strong, but too stubborn to trust that you’ll let yourself rest in order to heal properly.

“I apologize for upsetting your mate, brother,” Papyrus whispers across her sleeping form. He applies antiseptic and a salve for your burns to help them heal faster. Sans lets out a small sigh of relief as your transferred pain lessens. He helps his brother wrap your feet and leg. “She is very fast for a pregnant female.”

Sans nods, understanding his brother’s struggle to keep her out of trouble. “she is an impressive mate. it took nearly all my power to keep her soul under control last night. if she had been born a monster, she would have been boss level.”

“She will bear strong offspring. You chose well, brother.”

Sans smiles at the compliment. It means a lot to have his brother’s approval. Now that you’re asleep, he lifts the sheet you’ve tied around yourself. He pets and kisses each egg while his brother watches. Your souls created fifteen. Fifteen! An admirable first clutch. If you keep up that pace, their clan will rival the spiders in a few decades. They will have no problem carving out a territory for themselves.

“keep her safe for me, bro. i have errands to run, but when she wakes, she needs your famous spaghetti.” Meat, tomato, cheese. He can taste your cravings like they are his own. Now he will head back to the woods to pick up the kills he left lying on the ground when he felt you being attacked.

 

Sans blinks out of the room and leaves Papyrus alone with his exposed mate. He caresses your stomach, glowing with his first nieces and nephews. He kisses your stretched skin in the tradition of their kind. It is written that each kiss can grant added power to a seed’s level. He wishes his family to be strong and kisses each multiple times.

As his mouth kisses one egg low in your womb, he is overwhelmed by the strong scent between your legs. Papyrus has always had a good nose. He could smell so much of you last night. Even from the hallway you smelled delicious. He couldn’t help peaking in the door to watch and record.

Mating had never been a topic he was much interested in, but now that he had made the deal with the spider queen... he wanted to see how it was done.

But by the end of the night, he had become a bit obsessed.

Papyrus plunges his nose between your legs and breathes deep. You still smell delectable. He can’t help but lick your moist walls. His brother said he might let him mate with you in the future. He would enjoy that. The sounds you made last night were irresistible. For years Papyrus has been masturbating to the screams of humans being tortured under his surgical hand. He never thought those sounds could be so seamlessly threaded with pleasurable moans like you performed last night.

Thinking of his recording, his cock forms again while his tongue remains inside you. He continues the session he started earlier. Moaning against your warm lips, he cums across the floor.

Then he pulls your sheet back over your body and carries you back to the nest. He lies you down on the blankets and pauses as he hovers above you like his brother did last night. Sometime in the future, he’ll be in this position again. He hopes he can make you just as happy.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You wake to the sound of water splashing in a metal basin. You open your eyes to Sans emptying water bottle after water bottle. You also realize all of the blankets besides the one you’re resting on are hanging around the room trying to dry.

“You’re... cleaning?” You huff out the last word while you roll to sit up.

“i do what my mate needs,” Sans responds.

“I need to go home.”

He narrows his eyes, shoulders tightening as he shakes his head, “you want to go home. there’s a difference.” He dips a sponge in the water. “get undressed.”

“No. And don’t fucking play semantics with me. I need to see my family.” You rub your belly and look down at its luminescent glow. You have no idea where you would even start to explain this one. But you can’t do this alone.

“it’s not safe for you up there,” Sans sighs, tossing the sponge in the bucket. “the humans will think you’re a monster. they’ll kill you.”

“And I’m safe down here where monsters eat humans?” You can’t stop your voice from raising. His hypocrisy is infuriating.

“no one down here will harm a soul mate to a monster. it’s taboo and dangerous to mess with a bond that sacred,” Sans smirks at your skeptical expression. “even human fairy tales teach you that. the bad guy never wins against true love.”

“This is not love.”

“no?” He gets up from his position at the basin and starts walking towards you.

You scoot back on your blanket, but it’s not nearly enough to get away. He tears away your sheet, kneels beside you, and kisses your stomach. You gasp as a jolt of energy transfers to you. The eggs in that area stir with life and reach for their father. It’s a powerful moment to resist.

But you do resist. You don’t let your soul pull you into feeling anything but contempt for him; even as he continues talking, “each one of our children was created in the pure light of two souls that used to be one,” he whispers, rubbing the surface of your skin. His voice carries a softness you didn’t know he possessed, but its too late for kindness. You want to slap his hand away, but the desire of your children to be pet by their father overrides your action. “your soul longs for mine because we are part of the same ancient spirit. and our children are each reflections of what that spirit can be now. they are more whole, more powerful, than any other species on earth.”

His sincerity holds your tongue. His words beat true in your heart. And for a moment, you feel as if all of you are indeed one body.

Then you shake your head and jerk away from his touch. “If what we have is so sacred, you shouldn’t have defiled it with your rape.”

“you opened your legs to me. you begged me for more,” in his frustration he pushes you back, pinning your arms above you with a growl. “how can you still be fighting me after we became one?”

“My soul did those things. I did not,” You sneer.

“your soul is who you are!” He growls again. His own soul lights up under the tattered collar of his t-shirt stained with... you didn’t want to know.

“No,” you shake your head as he tries to kiss you. Your pulse quickens, but you’re in control this time. “You’ve ripped me in two. I am not your wife or some sacred mate. I am your prisoner!”

Sans pulls away from you in clear resignation. “so he is right.” His eye light begins to dim and warning signs go off inside your core as darkness swirls in his other eye. “you are like us.”

“Who are you talking about?” you ask, but Sans is no longer looking at you. He’s not looking at anything. His body has gone limp and his face blank as if he was a toy that was just turned off. Then his hollow skull turns toward you with a thin, sinister smile you’ve never seen him make before.

“ **you have another soul.** ” The darkness begins to seep out of his sockets like thick cracks that soon envelope his entire skull in tar-like ooze. “ **how clever of your species to evolve a second consciousness in the membranes of your mind. I see it now. It doesn’t glow like your core. Is this what your species primarily uses now? No wonder your kind is capable of their litany of unconscionable deeds. How perfect.** "

You remember this transformation from the spider attack, but you don’t remember him talking this much or this oddly. “Sans?”

“ **Sans is taking a break. Poor child is exhausted. He’s spent every waking moment trying to appease your ungrateful self.** ”

“Ungrateful!” You shriek, standing up in wobbly defiance; but the goopy monster rises taller as he covers the rest of Sans’ body. “He helped kill my team!”

“ **They were going to die anyway,** ” he cuts you off with a wave of his hand and rolls his red piercing eyes in the muck. “ **He didn’t force you to come down here and treat us like lab rats. He saved you. In this new world order, your kind will soon be enslaved. He has elevated your status to one untouchable even by a queen.** ”

“Enslaved?” The word carries so much fear. Your thoughts of your family are now much more urgent.

“ **Or** **slaughtered** ,” he adds as an afterthought with a bored wave of his hand. “ **I**   **told him to wait for a more suitable monster soul mate to appear, but his young soul is too enwrapped by yours. There is no reasoning with him as I am sure you understand through your struggle with your own soul. I, like you, could not break into that lust fest of theirs last night.”**

He pauses. “ **But now here we are. Two spectators of destiny with only one viable soul between us. And I think you have wasted it long enough.”**

Dozens of tentacles rise from the muck of his body. They stretch far in all directions. Dripping sludge on the floor around you, they reach for your naked body.

“What are you doing?”

“ **I tire of instability and watching you waste that powerful source with your human mind. Your pathetic cries of rape bore me, and I can no longer ignore how they injure my poor, lost, romantic son. It is time to end all our suffering. Your story is over, human.** ”

Tentacles whip around your limbs. Holding you in place, he gushes forward. His goopy mass peels away from Sans’ limp skeleton and let’s it fall to the floor.

“Sans! Sans!”

“ **He can not hear you. Creating fifteen eggs took too much out of him. Traditionally, a mating couple rest for days after such a feat, but he wanted to _please_ _you_ ,**” He doesn’t hide the disgust in his voice. “ **He hunted. He washed. He worked on the plumbing. He took your pain when you selfishly tried to escape.”**

He shakes his head as he glances back at his son’s body in pity. “ **His bleeding heart has always been his greatest weakness. But he is my son, and family is the most important thing.** ”

He cackles as his tentacles bruise you into submission. The only part of you left untouched is your belly. You cry out again, but the monster just shakes his goopy head in faux pity. “ **No one else is here. My other son has left to lead the guard against your capitol. Your government will fall within the week, and your species will find themselves trapped in cages of their own making. How ironic that the technology your kind worshipped over magic will be your undoing. Poetic. Shame you will not live to see it fall.** ”

His face smothers yours. His ooze forces his way through every orifice. You gag on metallic sludge and deafen under the rush of goop in your ears. Darkness overtakes your vision and pain overloads your nervous system until you can think of nothing else.

“ ** _Where_** **_are_** **_you_**?” His voice echoes in your head over the tides of agony. It’s like thousand of tiny claws are tearing apart your mind piece by piece. They leave their own images in their wake.

You see a war... refugees of mostly women and children hiding in a cave and then collapsing... he cuts the throats of human mages but their spell is already complete... he sees a herd of monsters running from a barrier of death... it’s slow wave kills all in its path until it contains the leftovers inside the mountain...

“ ** _Show_** **_me_** **_your_** **_soul_**!” He continues his devastating search within your brain.

You see a small Sans in a lab coat cradling his little brother... you see long hours, countless experiments while resources dwindle... you watch kindness die under starvation... Sans lies in the snow with a cracked skull. His bones begin to dust... a risky procedure saves his life, but diminishes his father to muck.

“ ** _Found_** **_you_**...” Sharp snips are tearing you from your hiding place as he replaces more of your memories.

Sans never lets his guard down again. He raises his brother and does whatever it takes to survive. It becomes a part of who he is. Everything he is. Until the barrier breaks and he sees the sky for the first time. And feels you...

Inpatient hope. Promise of strength and family. It becomes a possessive, all-consuming love that results in an impressive clutch.

Despite his disgust at hybrid children, Gaster is proud of his son. He eases her body, full of his grandchildren, back onto the blankets. With his newfound core, he shifts his body into a solid, walking form.

How marvelous. His original plan had been to be reborn within the clutch, but this is a far better solution.

He picks up his sleeping son and kisses him tenderly around the crack that had been the skylight for his deteriorated soul for decades. His first task will be to create a formidable head plate for his loyal firstborn.

He places Sans next to his wife. She cuddles him in her exhaustion and he returns the gesture. Everything is as it should be. Her glowing soul in her core is now no longer conflicted by the one he took. She will be Sans’ perfect mate. Her thoughts will focus only on pleasing him and caring for their offspring. After his extraction, there is, unfortunately, not much else left within her mind besides that. It would be regrettable if she was a monster.

But she’s only a human. It shouldn’t be too much of a problem. Their soul bond should blind his son of her new deficiencies. And it will only be a few decades of his son’s life. Once her soul drains itself and can no longer produce viable offspring, Gaster will be sure to rid the household of her uselessness. The less exposure his grandchildren will have to their human side will be best.

Gaster pauses as he realizes tears are falling from his newly formed eyes. Hm, how impressive that you’re still fighting somewhere within his new soul. What a nuisance, but time will diminish you more every day.

And now he has so much time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience in the conclusion of this fic. 
> 
> I may write a second part one day, but that will be far in the future as I focus on finishing my other fics. 
> 
> Want to keep up with my next works? Subscribe to me here or follow me on my Twitter, Pillowfort, or Tumblr.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Tainted](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14987510) by [We All Fall Eventually (RavenZaphara)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenZaphara/pseuds/We%20All%20Fall%20Eventually)




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